


Enigma

by lover_of_art



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alec has a motorcycle fight me, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Battle Couple Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Downworld Solidarity, F/F, F/M, Immortal Alec Lightwood, M/M, Made-up Lore, Magnus thirsts for said motorcycle, Slightly slow burn, Something!Alec, Sporadic Updates, jk theres a reason, why?just coz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24373633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_art/pseuds/lover_of_art
Summary: This is going to be hard to explain. Really hard to explain.Alec is due to arrive from Buenos Aires Institute and take up the mantle of Head of the Institute and we're in a ... situation.`````````In a universe where Maryse Lightwood didn't get out of the Circle early enough, it changes a tiny little detail that has the Shadow World and all it's inhabitants living in a slightly different chain of events. Some people fall in love earlier, some fall out sooner, and some of them don't feel it at all. Some mysteries are left wholly uncovered, and other's never see the light of day. Some truths come to be shrouded in heavy curtains.But how different would it be? There's only so much one man can do after all.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 77
Kudos: 275





	1. Situation

Jace POV

This is going to be hard to explain. Really hard to explain. 

How do I tell Alec that we were on an unsanctioned mission to retrieve a new girl’s memory and has somehow ended up in a bar brawl with a clearly angry Fae with really clear intentions to hurt us?

Especially with him due to arrive in a few hours from Buenos Aires Institute and take up the mantle of Head of the Institute. Yup, gonna be a hard conversation for sure.

“Jace!”, Izzy snaps, and suddenly I’m back to reality. “Just apologize!”

“Yeah, well I already told Hothead over here that I didn’t know the necklace was hers!” I shout back. Because that was the truth. Honest mistake. 

“Maybe you should just say sorry, dude.” Simon quips from somewhere behind us. 

Not to sound like a dick here, but why the hell would I? I said I didn’t know!

I was just about to say that reasonable thought to them when a blade was thrown around my general area. Clearly meant to hit me. “Hey, what gives?! I didn’t know, alright? Let’s talk it out man!” 

And now Izzy, Clary and Simon and I are fighting a really pissed off Fae and his friends, where they came from is beyond me, with an incoming Alec, who is really going to be pissed and confused. Mostly confused. 

“Um, guys? Is he supposed to be doing that?” Clary asks, she was handling herself quite well for a newbie Shadowhunter. 

I look to where she was looking at and see that Hothead was now swirling some form of magic and saying an incantation that did not sound good. One glance at Izzy and I can tell she’s not too keen on that magic as well.

I nod to her and we’re both off to deal with whatever his deal was. Hopefully without setting him off even more. Even with limited knowledge on magic, it’s still basic to know that uncontrolled emotional magic is extremely dangerous. 

“Proceed with caution, Jace,” Izzy says as if I’m ever not cautious. 

The guy looks up and --- oh shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok that was that! jk im trying to make more. I also forgot to tag that this is my first wordbaby and the first ever fic im realeasing onto the world, so please be kind and if you've like it I'd love to know. Also, this was soooo short but it was a spur of the moment post because if I thought more about it then I probs woulnd'nt post it so, yeah. 
> 
> More to come I hope and I've got no concrete plans, but I do have a blurry vision of this story.
> 
> Thank you all so so much <3


	2. He Finds Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec arrives.

“You know Maia, when you called me about a situation at the bar, this was not what I was expecting,” Luke said as he looked around the mess that was currently Hunter’s Moon.

It was a Thursday night so he wasn’t expecting a full house but not a quiet night either. And most of the time ‘a situation’ meant a bar brawl between drunk men with bristled egos. Which he knows Maia can handle on her own, she wasn’t Beta for nothing. But when he got a frantic call with panicked words involving one Clary Fray, her mundane best friend, two very competent Shadownhunters and a couple of Faes, he wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting.

_Certainly not this,_ he thought. 

“I’m sorry, I know it's your night off but she’s like your step-daughter or something and we didn’t know who else to call,” Maia explained. “I mean, whose jurisdiction will this be under anyway? It happened in a Downworld bar, but it's a Shadowhunter affair with the Seelies. Not a clear answer there.” 

She was right, of course. And calling him was the right move. He liked Jace and Izzy enough, for Shadowhunters, and no way was he leaving his pseudo-daughter and almost pseudo-son in a situation like this. 

“For now, it’s our affair. Take a few wolves and secure the perimeter, make sure that those Seelies are really gone. But if they’re still here, bring them to me. I’ll call and inform the Institute.” As he turned from Maia, he saw Clary on her knees trying to coax out two frightened children from underneath the corner they’ve huddled into. 

“Clary, they don’t know you, might as well let them cool down for a second.” 

She looked a few degrees of guilty as she stepped away from the kids but there was no time for comfort now. He needed an explanation. _What the hell am I going to tell the Institute?_

“Luke, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just want my mom back. And we found clues to this Magnus Bane guy and when we looked him up, we found out that he had a price, you know? Warlock stuff, Jace said. So we tracked down this Seelie that Izzy knows from a friend that supposedly had something with value to Magnus and things got messy and I didn’t know what to do, Luke, it's all so complicated…” 

Clary was rambling by then and she was almost not breathing. Her eyes kept bouncing around landing on everything else but Luke’s. And he understood, he really did. It was too much for a kid to be just thrown into a new world like this. If only Jocelyn had listened to him. 

“Clary, breathe, it’s ok, they’re not hurt, it’s alright,” he managed to say, though things did _not_ look alright. 

His hands were soothing weights on her shoulders and down her arms. A few deep breaths and she was mostly calm. As calm as one could, given the situation. Luke had that effect on people. Her especially. And it was good, to have something solid and reliable from her old life. Something that stayed with her when she was ungracefully dropped into this new world. Someone that had their bearings, not fumbling around like her and Simon. 

“Ok, so did the Institute know you were running this lead?” Luke’s look made it clear he was trying to get a handle on things now, no more coddling her and her seemingly bad luck.

“No, the Clave wouldn’t sanction a mission like this and we were … on a time crunch. But please don’t get them into trouble, it was- it was me, my fault. I pushed them to help me-” 

He shook his head, cutting me off. 

“So they don’t know. I’m calling the head of their security now and I’m bringing them into this. I don’t trust Shadowhunters Clary, and that's with me being one myself before, but they need to be informed. So you and Simon just need to cooperate til we get this under control, got it? “ _I’m trying to be reasonable here, kid_ , Luke’s eyes seemed to say, _please._

“But my mom,Luke-”

“Will be found with the help of a whole institute, better than two and a newbie Shaodowhunters going rogue.” 

* * *

Andrew Underhill has been working for the New York Institute for the better half of a decade and to say that it got hectic would be an understatement. 

As the third largest to house the Nephilim, excluding their home country, their quietest days would still have the buzz of at least two hundred Shadowhunters. He’d never witnessed this Institute in the context of a war, but he could imagine how she’d be a formidable stronghold. 

And having used the time he was deployed here to rise up in the ranks as Head of Security meant that he’d seen most of the surprises that New York could throw at them. 

But seeing his bosses as children with the missing daughter of Valentine in a ransacked Downworld bar would probably take the ham for one of the most outrageous things this city has baffled him with. 

“I am _so_ going to die,” Luke heard Underhill lament as he surveyed the room and the corner where kiddyfied Jace and Isabelle were hiding. His bosses who used to be battle hardened, demon killing professionals were now children, with baby fat for days and cute little outfits. Made him want to coo at them but he stopped himself. _So he liked children, sue him._ But these weren’t mundane kids. 

The glint of a seraph blade gripped by too-little hands was still placed between Jace, Izzy and the rest of the world. Jace isn’t speaking and Isabelle wasn’t speaking _English._

_This could not be any harder, could it?_

“It is safe to assume that as they were aged back their memories have gone as well, Alpha Luke?” Underhill said as he deferred to the wolf’s authority. _Better than having pissing matches with the guy and prolong this even more_. 

“Yes, Clary has tried talking to both of them but Jace is distrustful, I can only assume that he’s back to the age before or just as the Lightwoods took him in and I’m stumped on Isabelle,” _though is that Latin? What child speaks Latin before English? Lightwoods._

“We have to take them back to the Institute now, and put word to the Seelie court before-” Underhill stopped short, realizing a newer, more pressing matter. 

“Oh, my death has just been confirmed,” _Shit shit shit shit. Alec’s coming._

“What? Underhill? What is it?” Luke said, worry rising in his voice. The Shadowhunters were usually a level-headed and collected bunch, and even more so is Underhill. And he was on the verge of _panic._

“Alec’s coming.” 

Four of the Shadowhunters that he’d brought along with him to the scene had all frozen on the spot. Luke could point out the exact time that they all came to the same conclusion, all of their heads whipping to look at Underhill with wide terrified eyes. 

They’re all getting it, but aside from them, the rest were in the dark. 

“Ok, everyone’s freaking out but who’s Alec?” Simon says from his corner, where he had been previously trying to convince the Shadowhunter assigned to look after Clary to let him come with. 

“ _Alec? Ubi est Alec?”_

Everyone’s eyes snapped to the little girl behind Jace, who had just spoken, clearly recognized the name. _So she was listening._

Alec? Where had Luke heard of that name before? He was sure someone had mentioned it before to him in passing before. And apparently Isabelle knew this Alec.

“Oh, isn’t that their older brother?” Clary says, unconscious of how it knocks the wind out of everyone there who knows just what the older brother meant. 

It meant trouble, _for them at least._

“Yes, and he's the incoming Head of the Institute, due to arrive any minute. Also known for being terrifyingly strict and fiercely protective of his younger siblings.” Underhill explains rigidly, his face paling. 

Clary’s head tips in confusion. _Wait, is he-is he scared?_

Simon, ever oblivious to the world around him but present enough to sense the palpable unease in the room, “So we’re in trouble with this Alec guy? For breaking out Clary or for turning his siblings to children?” 

The bar door opens. 

Luke had never met the eldest Lightwood, but he was a Lightwood, it was impossible not to know anything about them. But this one was a tad different than his predecessors and siblings. He kept to himself. And instead of manning the Institute of his parents, he was on another continent. Something about a sick younger brother seeking help there. But even as he kept to himself in an Institute whole continents away, his reputation resonated in New York. In Idris, too, if his informants’ words were true. _A weapon,_ they’d say. _Dangerous._

He could feel Maia stepping closer to him, behind him. She'd gotten back from checking the perimeter in time to hear most of the conversation before.

Alec Lightwood walks to them with measured steps, military like. His face a mask. 

He looks around, his eyes stills on the corner where Jace and Isabelle are and doesn’t leave there for a while. His brows creases in concern for a moment, then the mask comes back on. Finally, he clears his throat and looks to Underhill, a brow expectantly lifted.

“S-sir,” he straightens his back impossibly more, “um, the, the situation is being handled, Sir. I apolo-”

“ _Situation?”_

_Oh boy, would I not like to be the one that makes this guy mad,_ Luke thinks as he glances as Underhill, _I get the dangerous part now. And he hasn’t even spoken to me._

But he was an Alpha, he would not submit and be over driven this easily by a guy that looks to be half his age, _but he’s got a strong presence I’ll give him that._

“Alec Lightwood? I’m sorry to meet you this way but I’m Luke Garroway, Alpha of the New York Pack. I’ve just called in the Institute because this _situation_ happened in one of the pack’s bars. We ask to help in any way we can.” He said, aiming for the right amount of respect and professionalism that dealing with Shadowhunters always called for. 

“Alpha Luke, pleasure to meet you as well, though I had hoped it would be in better circumstances.” A firm handshake too, Luke notices. 

“ _Alec?_ ” 

His face startles then, showing more emotion than he had in the past few minutes combined. This little girl, peeking behind a young Shadowhunter boy, had just recognized him. A little girl that looks awfully a lot like his little, but more adult, sister Isabelle. Looking at the boy, he also realizes that he looks very much like his little, but again more adult, brother Jace.

“Izzy? Jace?!”

A beat passes and nobody speaks. He must really be looking as incredulous as he feels if everyone is too scared to start explaining. He forgets sometimes that he can be like that. 

Dropping his shoulders to not look as threatening and pinching the bridge of his nose because he is just too damn tired he asks, "Somebody, please tell me those two children are not my adult siblings?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has turned up way longer than the first chap so im glad for that. 
> 
> And i am not able to speak any of those languages so pls blame google. 
> 
> also timeline? what timeline? i does not ~exist~ to me 
> 
> Thank you all so so much and again feedback and kudos are much appreciated. <3


	3. He's Called In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children are coaxed out and he is called in.

Jace was getting tired. 

He was already tired before he ended up huddled in the corner with Izzy behind him, he guessed. He really couldn’t remember much. 

No explanation came when he thought about how they got into this mess in the first place. Just a really bad feeling at the pit of his stomach, like when he forgot something important, but way worse. 

_I’m going to be in so much trouble._

_If I get out of here,_ he thought as he looked around the room again. _Not fair._

Not fair indeed as he saw that the grown ups outnumbered him and Izzy a lot, and they were blocking all his exits. _Father wouldn’t be proud._ Just the idea pushed off the sleepiness pulling at him. He would _not_ leave his little sister alone with these strangers. 

He was also startled by the fact that he just thought of Izzy as his sister when he had just met her and Alec a few months back. But they took him in, they were different. _Maybe they could be family too, maybe they already are._

So yeah, no letting strangers get to Izzy. If only Alec could just find them already. He’d make everything better. He always does. 

He shook himself and immediately felt bad for losing focus, even for a little bit. Enemies could get you then, he was taught. 

Always be alert, aware of your surroundings. 

And when the new guy walked in, Jace was alert enough to know that he should keep an eye on him. He scared everyone else, so he must be the baddest of them all. His knuckles went white with his grip. 

He talked with the guy who had looked like the leader before, who Jace now thinks that he was just a second or something. 

Then he was walking towards him and Izzy so he raised his blade higher, his arms more taut and tight, showing whoever he was that he was ready to strike. 

But then the super-tall body was moving down and gracefully, he sat on his butt, crossed his long legs and _waved._

Now that Jace got a closer look at the guy’s face, he felt … not scared. 

He was so surprised by his own reaction that he stepped back and fought to put his scary face on, he remembered that his enemies didn’t need to see that they got to him. But he hadn’t felt like the man in front of him was his enemy. 

But he _was_ so tired. So feelings or not, he struck. 

And Jace knew that he was fast, even with super tiredness he was quick. Everybody said so. 

He seriously doubted that now because he was sure that he just blinked and then the blade was gone!

“Hey!”, he just had to say, lame but it was what first came to mind. 

“Sorry Jace, no more sharp stuff til you stop trying to cut people with it, okay?” The man said calmly, and Jace fought the strong urge to nod and do whatever he asked. 

“Who are you?! Stay away from us!” _At least that sounded tougher._

“I’m Alec.” 

Jace stared for a good second, then looked back at Izzy, who had guessed what the guy just said and was looking back at Jace questioningly. 

“ _Nonne tu es Alec,_ ” Izzy said, venturing out a small step beside Jace. She had her doubts but she felt hopeful, too. Jace could see it. 

The man just smiled and it made his face look way younger, and nicer. Handsomer, too, _handsomer’s not a word though. Hmm, art-at-- attractive, yeah._

“ _Ita, sum. Ego sum frater tuus magnus memento?”_

_That can’t be right! Alec was a few years older than him! Right?_

“Alec’s 11, jerk! And you’re like _old!_ Stop messing with us! Aren’t you a Shadowhunter?! You’re supposed to be on our side!” He was just really tired. He didn’t even know where he got the courage, seeing that he was very scared of the guy claiming to be Alec.

“And I am, I promise I'd never hurt you. I’ve promised that since the day Izzy was born and since I met you Jace. No hurt will come to you when I’m around. Remember? I promised that. And I try really hard to make sure of it,” he looked so honest saying it that Jace was stumped for a moment. 

Because Alec _had_ promised that. So many times he heard him say it to Izzy. _Ego protector tuus sum, promitto._ Or sometimes it’d be _Promesa, estaré aquí._ Sometimes Alec would say it to him, too.

“Jace? _Tal vez_ … _eamus et nos?”_ Izzy took another step out, and his gut feeling was telling him it’s safe, too. 

So he lets Izzy go when she puts her tiny hand in his, and he doesn’t protest when the guy, Alec, pulls her to his lap and smooshes her to him. “Hi, princess, _sunt tibi bene?”_

Izzy’s nod as she cuddles closer is all it took for Jace to accept it as well, so was her small “Hi Alec” mumbled into his shirt. He was tired after all, and grown up Alec looked very comfy. He almost fell asleep as soon as his head hit his shoulder.

  
  


* * *

When Alec stood up with a handful of young and placated Shadowhunters, everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief. Mostly because things were starting to get handled but even more so since they saw Alec had a soft side. 

It is a bit hard to fear for your life from a man that smiled impossibly soft and comforted distressed children. _Though he did just disarm Jace in a blink of an eye, and even as a child Jace would knock me on my ass,_ Underhill thought. 

But the unease went right back up the moment they saw that he was _not_ thrilled with the situation at all. 

“Alpha Luke, I’m taking them back to the Institute now. Is anyone else hurt?” 

Luke was surprised to see what seemed to be genuine concern from him, “No, just them. And the Seelies responsible aren’t here anymore. My wolves have checked.” 

“Thank you. And I do apologize for the trouble. Underhill, have someone help clean up here and make sure that Clary Fray is in my office when we arrive.” 

_Huh, a Shadowhunter had just apologized to him, a Downworlder. Maybe he should mark his calendar._

“Oh! Alec,” he called out as he remembered something, “the High Warlock could be of more help than I am.”

Alec’s nod as he left had the alpha musing, _let’s see what Magnus thinks of you._

* * *

_Seven clients should not be this exhausting. Maybe I am getting old._

The thought makes Magnus pause, _but if that were true I’d have gone immobile by the nineteen hundredths._ So he proceeds to toss his boots off, then his heavily decorated suit jacket and unbuttons the remaining few buttons on his shirt, leaving it hanging open. 

Sipping his magicked up martini, he looked out of his wide windows overlooking the city. His city. His to protect, to govern, to look out for. The city that has been _home_ for a good few decades now. The city that just keeps taking and taking from him. 

If he was being honest, and he rarely was to himself, he’d admit that he was tired. 

Living the party that is life usually died down. But not for him. Never for him. 

_I’m just eternally stuck in a lame party with random bursts of entertainment every few hundred years._

Noticing that it would be _that_ kind of a night, he quickly got rid of his martini and settled for something stronger.

And so he descends on a lounge chair out on his balcony. Enjoying the fresh air that wasn’t really fresh. But it was very much the city. Nights like these he often needed small things like that to ground him. Centuries of memories could so easily sweep off anyone with a weaker resolve. 

He would’ve gone to any of the clubs he owns, or the ones his friends’ owns, maybe go home with a warm body or two. It used to work for him. But it hadn’t for a long time now. He was simply _bored_. 

Not even the title of High Warlock roused his spirits. Of course, helping his own had always helped his heart, it was second nature to him. Even the clients he had taken on, though fulfilling his urge to be of use to someone, did not take up much of his mind. 

_I should visit Ragnor or Catarina. Maybe bring along Raphael, might have to convince him though._

Reminding himself of the family that he had always did help for the waves to ebb. Catarina’s drunken stupor and the rants that came along with it. Raphael’s utter disapproval of any and all activities deemed fun by me. Even Ragnor’s grouchy face made the terrifying flashes dim down.

But sometimes they just did not work. 

He was saved, he supposes, from the absolute misery of his evening by more work. _Jolly._

As he caught the fizzling fire message with his free hand, his perfectly groomed brow lifts. 

“ _High Warlock Bane, the New York Institute would like to implore for your expertise regarding an incident. Your presence at the Institute at your earliest convenience is requested. Signed A. Lightwood._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! Thank you for all the support, it really does help!!
> 
> Also Alec's age here is 24, Jace was 20 turned 7, Izzy was 19 turned 5, Clary and Simon are both 19. So they're like the series-wise age, except the ya know, de-aging lol. 
> 
> Translations: (these are Latin and Spanish btw)
> 
> -Nonne tu es Alec=You're not Alec  
> -Ita, sum. Ego sum frater tuus magnus memento?=Yes I am. I am your big brother, remember?  
> -Ego protector tuus sum, promitto.=I'll protect you, I promise.  
> -Promesa, estaré aquí.=Promise, I'll be here  
> -Tal vez … eamus et nos?=Maybe ... we should go?  
> -sunt tibi bene?=are you alright?
> 
> Pps. Jace last name update as of this chapter is Wayland, jsut so we're caught up here.


	4. They Meet, It's Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec tries to work, Clary reminisces, Simon panics, and the children cause mayhem. Mostly Izzy, though.

This Institute didn’t feel like home. 

Come to think of it, Alec really didn’t have a _home._ He supposes that New York was meant to be his home, but that didn’t happen since he was sent to Argentina. And the Buenos Aires Institute was never meant to be home, either. 

Home was supposed to be permanent, right? Most of the things that were permanent about him seemed to be wrong. And all the right things seemed temporary. But Alec couldn’t complain, he guessed. It was for the best.

Jace and Izzy looked like they felt the same as him, too. Like they weren’t home. 

Children are sensitive like that. They feel more when they’re younger. Or do they grow and just ignore such sensitivity? Alec didn’t understand it much. _Humans._

So when they got to the Head of the Institute’s office, soon to be Alec’s office, they didn’t settle that well. Alec couldn’t blame them, he didn’t like the place either. Most of his limited memories here included his parents and even without them here, he could still feel their shadow looming. 

He left them on the couch, nowhere near as comfortable as he’d like them to be but it’d have to do for now. First he had to deal with a certain redhead that was giving him a pounding headache. And the mundane beside her that kept fidgeting. Who he was more irritated at, he couldn’t say. 

“Alec, I know we haven’t really met yet but I swear-”

“I don’t need you to swear to anything, little red. I’m aware of your situation and I understand your distress. But keep in mind that there are people existing beside you and your mother. Right now, all I need from you is a recounting of all the events leading up to Jace and Izzy turning into children.” 

If she was scared of him, she was doing a damned well job of ignoring that fear. 

“But my mother-” She was getting bristled now. He could practically feel the affront and anger that was so heavy in her scent. 

“Is of value to Valentine. He won’t hurt her. Now my siblings are both not themselves at the moment because they’ve helped you and let you be as reckless as you please.” Alec was a mask of utter calmness but he could feel the anger coiling within him. With a deep breath and a roll of his tense shoulders, he deemed himself in control enough and continued, “ So I will say this once and I hope this gets through to your head. We will help you and your mother, but I _will not_ unnecessarily endanger anymore of my Shadowhunters just because you think your way is better. Understood?”

She was better at masking her fear, but it was still there. The mundane’s though was slamming into him at full force. But he was still beside her so he had to give him that. 

Her reluctant nod and a smell of embarrassment from her was the only reply he allowed as he was continuing before she could manage anymore. 

“Good, now tell me everything that happened. And do not skip any details. You’re already in trouble, it wouldn’t make a difference.” 

* * *

He really should be just thankful that he’s alive right now. 

_I had more near-death experiences than I’ve ever had in my life,_ he thought, _but still mostly alive._

And it’s not like he could ever leave his best friend, whom he may or may not be deeply in love with. _That is so not a complication that she needed right now._

So he looked around the room that he and Clary were sequestered in and willed the panic to go away. It’s alright that his whole world had just been upturned. It’s alright that they are in the middle of uncharted territory, surrounded by very dangerous people, in _their_ turf. It was also fine that Jocelyn, who had almost raised him just as well as his own mother had, was missing and currently in grave danger. It was even fine that his best friend's whole life was somewhat built on lies. Totally fine. _Extremely_ fine. 

Though he was not yet ready to deal with the whole situation with Jace and Izzy. Nope. Not today. 

Besides, Alec’s got it. The dude sure seemed capable enough. He was super scary but he didn’t scream _evil._ He hadn’t decapitated a person who annoyed him, like he had looked like he’d be prone to do. Which Simon felt relieved at, _I’ve been told I could get annoying._ He didn’t draw too much attention to himself when he didn’t want to, though he could still command a room with ease and Simon found that skill astonishing. _How did you not notice a six foot three man that’s built like a brick house, with an aura that said ‘fuck with me and you’re dead’?_ Even Luke seemed to give the guy a wide berth back at Hunter’s Moon. Also _Luke._ A werewolf-an Alpha! _Sure, I guess, he did fit the wolfish vibe._

_And I literally just thought that. Like it was just another Tuesday that his father figure was a werewolf with a wolfish vibe._

Simon knew that if he kept going with this kind of thinking he’d go batshit crazy and lose his mind, so he set on keeping Clary company. She was sitting by the sofa near the fireplace. 

_Shadowhunters might be rich, the size of this room is great! And in New York, too. Huh. Though where would they get the funds, is Shadowhunting a financially secure career? Do they have like, sponsors or something?_

The sitting area was left to the door, like a little adjoining room to the bedroom. While the two beds took up the main space. There were a good amount of shelves filled with books lining the walls and all of them looked older than Simon and Clary’s ages combined. A really old tome was spread open in Clary’s lap. 

“Hey, isn’t that the symbol you always draw nowadays?,” he said as he pointed to the one that looked like a diamond with two sideways ‘v’s on the top. 

“Yeah, they’re called runes. That one’s angelic power. It might have been a sign that my memories were coming back, or that my ties to the Shadow world were resurfacing. Luke would know about it. We should have stayed and talked to him.” He could tell that she wasn’t entirely here with him, caught up in her own thoughts. Trying to make sense of it all. “It’s like there’s a black corner in my mind, and I’m painfully aware it's there and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Hey, we’ll get through this. We’re made of tougher stuff than this Dark world-”

“-Shadow world”

“Same thing, and besides, aren’t you mad at Luke? Like _he lied to me and just used us to get to the Cup_ mad?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion, _things are happening left and right, they’re starting to blur together._

“I might’ve judged him too fast on the last one. I mean, I did hear some of his explanation as Jace was pulling me out of the station a couple days back.” _Things were much much blurrier then,_ Clary thought. 

_She had just arrived at the loft to see that the whole place was a mess. Tears were continuously streaking down her face, her heart pumping from the frantic phone call with her mother. ‘Mom!’, she screamed. ‘Mom!’, and still no response. She tried for Dot instead. Again nothing. Her eyes kept darting around, at the back of her mind she was outraged and upset with how her home was violated like this. Also in the back of her mind was her worry that she’d left Simon in the strange bar alone._

_A peculiar sound behind the pillar had her spinning. Some part of her must’ve sensed the danger as she subconsciously picked up a broken leg of the coffee table. She held it tight and close to her, ignoring the splinters she was getting. Instinctively, she put her left foot forward and lowered herself in a defensive form she didn’t know she was doing or from where she’d learnt it._

_Then, something was charging at her and she swung, with all the force her 5’4” and hundred pound body could muster._

_As the thing screeched and hit the floor, she got a good look at it. And immediately wished she hadn’t. This-this monster was a slimy black with a form that wasn’t entirely solid, like it was changing and morphing. It was all sorts of wrong. There was a glint of viscous looking teeth in what could be loosely be deemed as the mouth. There weren’t any eyes as far as she could tell but her skin crawled from its gaze._

_She would’ve screamed but her body was frozen, her fight or flight instincts not deciding what to do yet. But the monster had decided for her, apparently, as it got up to its arms? Legs? Appendages and moved. And boy did it move fast. She was running back towards the door before she could even think of it._

_But her body had appeared to get caught up with the fact that she wasn’t all that sporty. A shout was pushed out of her as her foot caught on the strewn carpet and she proceeded to fall on her face._

_She felt, more than saw, the thing leap as it saw its opening. She sobbed as she braced for the blow but it never came._

_Suddenly a hand was hauling her up to her feet and beside her was Dot._

_‘You have to hurry Clary, think of Luke and only Luke. My magic’s almost run out from warding this place and there’s more demons besides this one. Go now!’_

_Purple sparks were streaming from her arms out to her fingers and she looked exhausted. Clary’s mind was racing, not fully catching up even as Dot was pushing her towards the doorway, where more of the purple sparks were forming and swirling._

_‘Dot, you aren’t making sense! Where’s Mom? And magic? What-’_

_‘No time to explain, Valentine’s got her now and you have to go! Think of Luke, Clary!’_

_And just like that she was shoved through the purple sparks._

_Think of Luke?_

_And promptly she landed on her ass. On the hallway in the precinct. Where Luke would be._

_Disoriented and on the verge of puking, she pushed herself up and waddled gingerly to Luke’s desk. Raised voices stopped her from going down the steps. Why she hid, she didn’t know yet._

_‘Give up the girl, Lucian. And maybe then we’d spare your pathetic little pack.’ The voice was unknown to her, so was the disgust that the man was conveying._

_‘Are you really going to protect a Shadowhunter? After all that’s happened? Oh and even for the safety of your pack, such weak sentiments for a were-’_

_‘I’m not protecting anyone! I was tolerating them for all those years for my pack! You think I’d ally myself with Jocelyn for the fun of it? And that wretched kid of hers? I was in it for the Cup, and you can tell Valentine that if I get my hands on it, he isn’t ever touching it. ‘ That was Luke’s voice, she was sure. But her heart just wouldn’t believe it. Her eyes that’d grown wide was still spilling tears and before her hand could muffle it, a sob tore through her. Loud and wet. And definitely heard by Luke._

_Before she could make a run for it, Luke was in front of her. Brows pinched in worry. Like he really cared for her. Which he didn’t. He had said so himself._

_‘Clary! Thank the Angel, you’re safe. I thought they’d gotten you, too. God, you’re trembling. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.’_

_She was almost calmed down by it, almost._

_Wrenching herself from his comfort, she screamed at him,’You’re with them! You’re a liar, too! I can’t believe Mom and I were stupid enough to believe you!’_

_‘Clary, you’ve got to listen to me-’_

_‘I’ve heard enough of your lies, Luke!’_

_‘No, you haven’t. I only said that to shake them off of me. I love you and your mother more than you could ever know. I did it to protect you!’_

_But Clary was having none of it. There was only so much a girl could take in one shitty night. So she was shaking her head and continually backing out of the precinct as Luke was continually trying to placate her._

_She was too out of it to notice that Luke had gone back to intercept the men he was previously talking to, that they had not seen her yet but was suspicious of Luke’s abruptness. She hadn’t noticed that she was outside and was getting drenched._

_Another thing she hadn’t noticed was the demon that was waiting for her behind the bushes._

_She did notice the pain that erupted in her shoulder. For that moment it was all she could think about. Hot white searing pain._

_When Jace fought off the demon and Simon tried to put pressure on Clary’s wound, she didn’t have enough in her to stay awake._

“Fray, hey!”, Simon said as he shook her shoulder. The one that should still be healing, but now didn’t even have a scar. 

“Snap outta it, dude! I know things are wack but you can’t brood in the presence of your best friend. That’s like, against the rules. Super serious repercussions.” He was trying to lighten the mood, he always was. His patented Simon smile was plastered on and that did the trick. 

“Just thinking, I do not brood. I don’t think I even can.” She was far too bubbly and they both knew it. 

“And hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, when I left you at the bar. How did you end up saving me at the precinct with Jace?”

“Oh, you’re thinking bout that? Well when you ditched me, very uncool of you I might add, I followed you out and didn’t see you. So I figured you went home and went there. But then I saw this blonde guy, who looked strangely like the one you described at the cafe, and he was asking about you. Said you were in danger, which then got me worried but we heard a creepy screech upstairs so by then I was panicking, you know? 

And before I could run up, blondie stopped me, said you just ‘portalled’ out and he did something with the runes, I think, didn’t notice too much I was freaking out. And then he was leaving,’She’s somewhere else’ and I convinced him to take me with, and bam, there we went!”

Well at least that was a question that got answered. If only her other questions were as easily answered. 

* * *

“Izzy _no.”_

Oh, he was sure she was just being a little shit at this point. Judging from Jace’s little giggles, he was in on it, too. 

He loved his little siblings, and he was extremely glad that they'd gone past their initial disbelief and unease around him, but they were getting _too_ comfortable it seemed. 

He was writing out the paperwork to at least lessen the trouble that they were going to be in with the Clave. Trying to find a way to present what Clary had told him they did in a way that was at the very least, reasonable. He wasn’t at the desk, but at the sofa in between Jace and Izzy, who had been content with snuggling into his sides for the past few hours.

Except when they decided that they were bored. 

Well, _Izzy_ decided they were bored. So she had proceeded to bombard him with questions. 

“ _Quid tam magnum?Ubi est Mama? Est Papa? Quid agis? Tu complevit?”_

And when Alec’s answers were not interesting enough, she had moved on to getting Jace to explore the room with her. There wasn’t any real danger so Alec had let them, though he kept a close eye on them. 

He was a bit occupied with thinking of how to phrase their reasoning to be acceptable to the Clave when he looked up to see Izzy reaching for an antique Seraph Blade displayed on one of the shelves. Antique though it may be, he knew it was sharp enough to cut. 

“ _Ojo_!” he had exclaimed as he surged up and scooped her away from the sharp object. Her lower lip was already wobbling and her brows were upturned in distress. He immediately felt bad for being responsible for her scent souring with dejection. 

So he soothed her the best he can, rubbing circles on her back and explaining himself. “ _Contrisari, cariño, quod erat acri. Non ad te. Bene?”_

Her little nod still poke at his heart, and having his baby sister displeased like this did not sit well with him. And Jace was getting restless, too. 

His little siblings were not happy. Hence the reason they are now in the kitchen, in a staring match, with hot chocolate in Jace and Izzy’s hands. 

Jace had not felt comfortable with how open the kitchens were so they would drink it back at the office. But dear little Isabelle would not let herself be carried. Evidently, she had decided that the time for mischief is nigh. 

Alec swore he had just turned around for _one_ second and she was already near the doorway, holding the big ceramic cup with two hands, a vexatious glint in her doe-eyes. And he just knew, from her poise and his instinct, that she was about to _bolt._

“Isabelle… don’t even think about it!”

And ooh, how she knew he knew what she was about to do. Jace’s growing giggles were adorable but entirely not helping. 

He ventured one slow step closer, but it was all it took and then she just _went for it._ Her little feet zoomed away, two seconds later and there it was. 

He rounded the corner to see who his little runner's poor victim was but he stopped, frozen where he stood, eyes glued to the strange man whose pants were liberally decorated with his hot chocolate and marshmallow mix. 

The first thing that registered in his mind was the tantalizing smell. _Sandalwood, with honey. And rain with thunder._ He could feel the magic twisting around the man as well, pouring from him. _Warlock._ The magic wandered closer to him, curious. _Powerful warlock._

Though he did not need enhanced senses to determine that this man was extraordinary. Golden skin peeked from his well-fitted silk shirt, the royal blue and gold inlays only served to compliment him more. As well as the glitter sparkling from his artfully quaffed hair. The assortment of jewelry almost made him purr with approval. And his _eyes._ Holy mother of Lilith, his eyes took him in and he fought to be released. It was somehow dark and light at the same time. Like deep whiskey with pure sunlight beaming through. 

The smell of chocolate brought him back. And the wafting curiosity from Underhill, who he had just noticed appeared to be escorting the man. Izzy, as he had realized, had come running behind him and was now holding onto his legs as she peeked at the dazzling man. 

“Sir? Um, I was just about to escort our visitor to your office, he is -”

“Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, you called?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was way longer than expected. also im planting lots of seeds here, did yall notice?? didya??? anyways, feedback is super appreciated. And though constructive criticism might make me cry, i welcome it. thank you all so much. 
> 
> Translations:  
> -Quid tam magnum?Ubi est Mama? Est Papa? Quid agis? Tu complevit? = Why are you so big? Where is Mama? Papa? What are you doing? Are you done?  
> -Ojo!= Be careful  
> -Contrisari, cariño, quod erat acri. Non ad te. Bene? = Sorry, sweetie, but that is sharp. It is not for you. OK?
> 
> ps. i take in requests , like if you'd want more or less of someone, or a certain thing you'd like to see, im open to it :)


	5. Situation Explained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation is discussed, someone's impatient, and Magnus finds out he's involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, I've been stumped and though I had some things visualized I had to make them coherent, which I found out is vv hard to do. Anyways enjoy ! Feedback really helps me and just absolutely makes my day. ilysm tc <3

_This really smelt like good hot chocolate, a pity. With little marshmallows, too._

Before Magnus could also mourn for his ruined Chanel vintage pants, a small accented voice had stuttered a “ _Lo siento_ ”, and looked at him with very guilty eyes, then ran behind a long pair of legs. 

He looked up to easily one of the most gorgeous men he had ever laid eyes on. 

The man was extremely tall, since even Magnus had to tilt his head a tad up, and Magnus himself was not short by any means. He was also a sucker for the messy look that the man was flawlessly pulling off. Untamed hair that framed his profile and was a stark contrast to the pale of his skin. His face was nothing short of angelic, that much was sure. That bone structure was God-made, _makes me want to pray and give thanks. And I haven’t done that in a long long time._

But the one thing that stood out to him the most was he man’s eyes. They were a muted green, but also hazel, like a calm mossy lake meeting the soil of the earth. _Heavenly,_ he didn’t know why, but they were heavenly. A wayward thought had come into his mind, something about gold flakes peeking through the outer layer. _Layer of what?_ But as if thinking about it triggered _something_ , the thought vanished from the reach of his consciousness. 

Even his errant magic sensed something, but the more he tried to focus on just what it was his magic had found, the more it escaped him.

Any more poetic waxing was interrupted by the one that had met him at the front door and escorted him. ' _A. Lightwood' in the flesh, I would assume._ He noticed as the man had been called sir and that it was to his office they were headed. So he took that as his cue to introduce himself with the flair that he deemed appropriate, if not toned down even.

“Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, you called?”

Recognition flared up in the man’s eyes, interrupting the glazed look in them. _It seems I have also been appreciated. How juicy._

“Oh, Mr. Bane yes, of course. It’s best we talk back in the office, we’ll uh, we’ll be right with you shortly.” He was trying his best to be Shadowhunter-y and be stoic, but Magnus had obviously caught him off guard. 

_We?_

It was then that Magnus had noticed the two children behind him and he understood that he was much more so not welcome with them around. So he nodded his head, opting to just let himself be led away, but the man had apparently just noticed his rather sweet conundrum judging from his gorgeous brows being drawn together. 

“ _Cielos,_ you’re covered in hot chocolate, I’m terribly sorry. She just booked it before I could stop her, I’m so sorry.”

He made a move towards him, with a handkerchief that to all appearances came from nowhere, and was about to assist him. _How impeccably sweet._ “Fret not, darling, it’s not trouble at all.” With a wink to the little girl and a snap of his ring-clad fingers, he was clean as before the whole mess. “See, all good. I should leave you to it, then.”

“I-um, of course, yes.” With a nod that carried far more authority than Magnus would have expected, “Underhill.”, he said, and off he was. 

He has been in this office for only a handful of times, but it was still a handful too many. The rich mahogany of the coffee table was strewn with various folders that he thought better than to snoop in. His hosts had not been hostile with him yet, so that was a win he’d rather not lose just yet. 

With nothing to do and still a few moments left to himself, he thought about the very new and very different Shadowhunter he was about to meet with. He had debated putting off the meeting till tomorrow, since he was in no hurry to deal with the Nephilim, but curiosity got the better of him. And his gut had pushed him as well. And his intuition had not yet led him astray thus far. 

Even stranger was that he wasn’t sure which piqued his curiosity more, the incident that was so vaguely explained, or the man who had fire messaged him about said incident. 

The door pushed open and in came the interesting young Shadowhunter, and surprisingly, the two younger Shadowhunters as well. 

“I’m sorry to have contacted you this late but I was eager to have your opinion on a certain … sensitive issue.” Alec said as a greeting as he herded Jace and Izzy to sit at the couch, now both humming happily with their delicious-looking beverages. 

“And again, I’m terribly sorry for the mess,” _That was the third apology this Shadowhunter had given him tonight. Very interesting, indeed._

“It was an accident, and little miss runner here already apologized, hadn’t you?” Magnus tried to smile at the child, Shadowhunter she may be, she was still a child. With the small smile she returned, he was relieved to conclude that the prejudices of the older generations had not touched her yet. _If only they stay that way._

He could see that the older blonde boy was more reserved than her, very quiet for a boy his age. He seemed cautious too,whether it was because of his earlier show of magic or because he was a new person, he couldn’t tell. But he had behaved thus far, so Magnus really couldn’t complain. 

As the older Shadowhunter settled the children, he faced Magnus and stretched out a hand. “I believe we should meet formally this time, so hello, good evening. I’m Alec Lightwood, incoming Head of the New York Institute. Luke Garroway referred me to you.”

To say the warlock was taken aback was a bit of an understatement. The Nephilim had always played into their reputation. Close-minded people who had believed their blood, graced by the Angels, put them into a pedestal from whence none of the filthy downworlders could match them. The Clave, their ruling body, was made up from people of good family names, ensuring influence and even more honor to them. They pranced about thinking that blood and last names gave them more worth. Thinking that that gave the right to govern the whole of the Shadow world, with an iron fist, too. And years of these _holier than thou_ mindset was ingrained into each generation, once that generation is old enough to think.

And no that was not Magnus stereotyping them, it was Magnus experiencing them. 

But to have one of those pompous pricks apologize to him this many times is quite a feat. _I haven’t begun to think about him being a Lightwood yet, that would just make it seem even more impossible and surprising. His heart might just give out._

Not even acknowledging that he was being let into the same room as not one, but two, of their young ones. He had yet to make a move to shield the children from him, like many of his kind had done before. _So very interesting._

“Right to it then? Alright, again hello, Magnus Bane.” He conceded, the Shadowhunter seemed to be a straight to business type of person and he could respect that. At least he wasn’t being crude about it. But Magnus always did like to push his luck, liked having fun in the face of danger. the face of danger. So he did just that. “Alec, is it? Short for Alexander perhaps?” 

His posture was relaxed and easy, the opposite of the Shadowhunter, who had seemed confused at how Magnus was taking the conversation, as if it were a social call among potential friends. As if Magnus wasn’t aware of the generation-long strife between their people. Alec was on guard and alert, every bit the Shadowhunter that he was. Expecting this meeting to go the worst way possible. 

_Maybe this is when the big bad Shadowhunter comes in, he certainly looks the type. Maybe he’ll find the flirting to be annoying and start to act like any other Shadowhunter. That would be disappointing but not surprising._

“Uh, yeah, yes it is. Though everybody calls me Alec.” _That tilt of his head with those brows and expressive eyes should not be as adorable as it is. You are temptation walking, Alexander._

“Very well, Alexander.Will the children remain for the meeting? I wasn’t even aware this Institute was home to such youths.”

An extending hand silently urged him to take a seat across from the children. He took it.

“Yes, well, they happen to _be_ the reason for the meeting. This is my parabatai Jace Wayland and my sister Isabelle. Before this afternoon, they were 20 and 19 years old respectively.”

_Well I say I was bored. I’m definitely not anymore._

* * *

Somewhere north of Ukraine, Jocelyn’s body was suspended midair, the potion she’d drunk rendered her unconscious and all of Valentine’s useless warlocks couldn’t get through it. His patience was wearing thin. 

The report that this ingrate was currently doling out made it very hard for him to practice restraint. He was very sure that snapping just one neck would make his mood shades better, but he didn’t need to lose another one of his loyal, if only a little incompetent, soldiers. 

“The lead with Lucian Greymark did not pan out as extensive shadowing of him showed that he was not in contact with the daughter nor the mundane friend. But a few Shadowhunters were seen at a bar under his pack’s management. We don’t know what happened yet but there seems to have been a fight, involving Shadowhunters for them to show up.”

The idiot had not yet left him, shifting stupidly from one foot to another. “Spit it out then!”

“Alec Lightwood is in New York.”

He cursed his other co-workers for making him the bearer of bad news. He was just the messenger, but their leader wouldn’t see it that way. He would still be the one to deliver information that frankly, he didn’t see the importance of. 

But the boss had asked and asked for updates on the eldest Lightwood. Though they couldn’t follow him too closely, Boss’ orders, they were still expected to always be updated with him. Where he is, who he’s associated with, the likes. Personally, he couldn’t see the point. 

When Valentine turned around, any other emotion would’ve been less scarier to the man. Valentine looked _worried_. And if one could worry a person like his boss, then maybe it hadn’t been pointless at all. 

He knew immediately that his was the neck that Valentine would be snapping tonight. 

* * *

“Seelie magic is tricky as it is, their magic comes out different and acts different than warlock magic. And if it was from an angry Fae as you described, then it’d explain why it took as much as ten years and more.”

After Magnus had heard the entertaining tale of the four reckless young adults, the other two having not been introduced to him yet, he had contemplated what kind of spell it could be. There were suspiciously many de-aging spells, especially from the Seelies. They liked to prank that way. 

Though if it was a prank, it would most likely wear off in a few days and not cause any actual harm. But it wasn’t a prank. So he’d told Alexander that and another thought came to him. 

“And if you don’t mind my asking Alexander, how did these four find themselves against angry Seelies? If I knew of the motivation, it might help with determining the spell used on them.” 

He honestly hoped their interaction would not turn for worse, now that he’d seen that Alexander was genuinely a decent person. Talking to him in a way without the Shadowhunters’ usual disdain or condescending tone. Like he was respected as a person. And seeing how he interacted with his siblings also cemented his stellar opinion of the man. 

_If this is to be the Head of the New York Institute, then I may have hope yet._

“Ah, that was actually another reason that I’ve contacted you. They got the Seelie angry when they misjudged the ownership of a certain necklace, they took it unaware that it didn’t need to be returned to _you._ ”

Magnus was confusion. 

“ _Me?_ Pray tell, how am I involved in this?” _This is the other shoe dropping, I knew he was too good to be true._

“Please don’t be alarmed, Mr. Bane. This is not in any way an interrogation, nor am I making any accusations against you,” he assured, easily reading the distress flitting over Magnus’ face. There was concern in his face, Magnus noted. 

_Okay, maybe the other shoe hasn’t dropped yet._

“The other two with them, she uh, she was the reason they wanted to contact you. Clary Fray was the one wanting to contact you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thing, yall must realize now that this is more than a kid!Jace and kid!Izzy fic, though that may be where I started from, its tumbled out into a whole storyline, where I believe I'll be following and twisting the series events into my own stuff. Ideas that have been stuck for a while now. So I do hope you guys stay with me til the end, I'll try and make it worth your while. 
> 
> So much for the short first fanfic I'd thought hehe.
> 
> I genuinely hope you guys are enjoying this. Take care!! <3


	6. They're Kids, They're cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus talks with Clary, and he examines the kids. Alec thirsts.

A knock broke Clary and Simon from their very heated discussion regarding the proper pronunciation of _steele_. 

A moment later they saw Amelia, one of the friendlier Operations Handlers, peek her head in, “Hi, Clary, Simon, Alec wanted you in his office? It’s very late, right? But the word is whatever you four got yourselves into was big! And he’s in a meeting with High Warlock Bane right now, I mean, that has to mean something, right? Like, come hit me up when things get even more interesting, _if they even could_ , you know what I mean?” 

“Ok, yes thank you, I think we got the gist, Amelia. We know they way, thanks.”

Simon was talkative, sure, but next to Amelia? He looked like a … well, Clary couldn’t think of anything to compare him with but he looked like he was quiet. ‘Cause you know, she was more talkative? And rambled more… and said way more stuff. _Yes, good thing I draw and do not write._

They had just passed the training room when Simon’s hand shot up, effectively stopping her in her tracks. 

“Oh my G-- we’re stupid. Like illiterate. Dumb people made out of dumb-dumb atoms.”

He had obviously come to an epiphany, but sadly, Clary was ‘made out of dumb-dumb atoms’ since she hadn’t figure out just what it is he realized. 

“I … don’t follow. What did you just realize? You got that look.”

He was facing her now, with them in the middle of the hallway, his hands gripping her shoulders. He shook her, as if to rattle the stupidity out of her, “High Warlock Bane.” 

“Honestly it’s just elevator music in my head right now.”

“Alec is in a _meeting_ in his office with _High Warlock Bane._ ”

_Yup, still nada._

“The dude we were looking for!”

“Oh my God, I am dumb. Yes! We were supposed to trade the necklace for his services! Jace and Izzy said he was elusive and something about little information on him at the archives.”

With both their eyes wide with realization and anticipation, they _ran._

* * *

Alec was trying not to stare, he really was. But the man just filled the room. Like he sucked all the interest in everything around him, so you’d have no choice to find that interest in him. Or he was already interesting enough that everything else just dulled in comparison. 

And what he smelled from Magnus was definitely attraction. Not that he was an expert on it, but he did encounter it on the scents of some people whether in Buenos Aires or in Idris. Sometimes it was even directed at him, like they were attracted to _him._

Like right now.

Not only in Magnus’ scent, but it was also evident on the way that his whole body was turned towards Alec, as though he wanted to be appreciated, _he definitely was._

What he was showing and projecting to his scent , though unconsciously, did not help at all the urge that he was pushing down. The urge to run his hands through that honey skin, maybe touch those luscious lips, feel those broad shoulders of his. 

_Hardly thoughts and urges I should be having with my siblings in the same room._

Before his sweet torture could continue on, the door burst open, Clary and Simon rushing in.

“Clary, Simon, are you alright? What happened?”

He was ignored as the two went straight to the warlock lounging on the chair. 

“Are you Magnus Bane?! We have business with you. We’ve been trying to get through to you days before Jace and Izzy were turned back to kids!” Clary was near shouting at this point, her fiery red hair, flailing about, angry. Just as she appeared to be. 

Her anger did not go unnoticed by the two young Nephilim, who’d long finished their comfort drink and was now cowering on the sofa. Leaning into each other and looking towards Alec to shield them. The sight nearly had Alec shifting and just tossing the red-head out right then and there. 

But that wouldn’t do, so he opted for moving himself swiftly between her and Magnus, backing her away from him and his siblings as well. “Calm. Down.”

She was panting and gulping, as was the mundane, but she wasn’t on a rampage anymore. 

“Now, we will talk calmly, sitting down, like civilized adults, or I am throwing you out right now. Are we clear?” He spoke levelly, but with the weight that was enough to cool down a maverick like her. 

He all but herded the two of them to the chairs directly opposite of Magnus, leaving him and his siblings in the middle of them all. 

Jace’s arm was still crossed in front of Izzy’s torso, though she was no longer afraid and only curiously peering at Clary and Simon. 

“ _Quare iratus est?”_ Her wide questioning eyes were looking to Alec now, looking to know why the woman was angry. ( _Is she angry?)_

“ _Et hoc solum est impatiens,”_ he replied quietly and it was true. Her impatience was usually a big motivator for her rashness, Alec noticed. ( _She is only impatient)_

On her place at the chair, Clary had just begun to scrutinize the glittery man when said man spoke up. “Hello, biscuit. Long time no see.”

And really, Alec had to give it to him. The man knew how to stoke a fire, which is exactly what happened to Clary.

“We’ve met? How? And when? You were the ones to take my memories, weren’t you?!” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I have done everything you’ve asked for! All I ask for is my child, please, Valentine, let me see her.”

The woman’s voice was shaky and her heartbeat was erratic. Her fingers were cold and she could feel the exhaustion seeping into her frail bones. _Magic deprivation_ , she suspected. 

But the cruel man before her wasn’t done yet. _When will he ever be done is the true question._

“Yes, you have. You’ve been useful. Though not useful enough. I seem to recall asking for the warlock responsible for my wife’s state. I don’t see you handing her over to me. 

There’s also that little wrinkle with the infants that I was asking for, hm? These numbers aren't what I requested. Really, I’m being so generous with my treatment of you here, demon scum.”

  
  


She started shaking her head even before he finished his little rant, “No, no, you don’t understand! More often than not, the women die before the demons are finished with them. The births are rare for a reason! And even if they’re conceived and born, survival is slimmer than you’d think. Just _please,_ let me see my girl.” 

To hell with what little dignity she had, her daughter was away from her. She was already working with the devil, she might as well have reprise from this hell through her child. 

“You’ve been doing this long before I commissioned you, Iris, but don’t worry. My men will get you the resources you need. Like I said, I’m kind.” 

* * *

"One question at a time, dear. If I had known it was you, I’d have answered your summons. You just missed my Chairman Meow’s birthday party, what a shame really. 

“Yes, I do know you, have known you since you were a wee redhead. About eight if I recall. Your mother had asked me to remove your memories. To shield you from the Shadow World. Not a choice I would’ve made, but Jocelyn is thrice as stubborn as you are, Biscuit. I’ve seen you grow up, and you remember none of it. _For her own safety,_ your mother would say.” 

The scent of nostalgia was heavy around Magnus, and the glazed look in his eyes were different than it had been moments ago. Alec felt compelled to reach out and comfort him, like he would had he been a part of his Pride. _I just met the man,_ he had to remind himself. 

Any more urges were squandered by Clary’s bittering spoor; betrayal, disbelief, and confusion. It was drowning her. And he felt for the girl, he knew too well how those felt. 

Thinking of how to best console the girl, he led the conversation forward. Short and precise, practical and useful, those never failed Alec before.

“So Mr. Bane, could you retrieve those memories? Give her back what is hers. It could help us find her mother and against … other factors.” Revealing the threat of Valentine wouldn’t be wise, especially with them at such a disadvantage, but he almost did. Talking seemed to be _too_ easy with the warlock. 

He could also see Clary nodding along soon as he suggested it, wiping away the few errant tears and blinking back the rest. _Just like Jace,_ he noted, _always needing a goal to bury emotions. To be in control._

Magnus’ brows furrowed when he remembered a certain issue with those memories. 

“Well you see … that may not be so easy a task. I can not simply hand them over, I do not have it-”

“Who does then?”

“If you’d let me, I would have said it was with a memory demon, Biscuit.”

“Then let’s get the demon then! Do we kill it or something?” Clary said, already starting to stand and reach for a weapon. 

“Not that easy, as I said. The demon can not be summoned in just any condition. A full moon and other bits with ley lines are needed. And that is sadly just not possible within this month. I’d hardly think you’ll be able to wait that long, dear.”

Ruefully, Magnus shook his head. No other solution coming to him, magic simply relied on too many things, contrary to the belief that magic was just a snap of the fingers. _Though, I do like to downplay it, but even that seems too simplistic._

Clary was just about to scream her fiery little head off when Alec cleared his throat, cutting off any impending tantrums. 

_I’m almost forgetting the immediate problem at hand._

“A month? Well have to address that after we’ve addressed the reason that we’ve asked you here for first, yes? Jace and Izzy, will they be able to return to their selves?”

If Jace didn’t look to be listening before, _he was, he just found that he didn’t fully understand things,_ he definitely was now. _What did he mean ‘return’?_

His grip on Alec’s arm tightened, shaking his head at his thoughts. 

_I’ve been good. They won’t send me away, they can’t take me. I’m family, aren’t I?_

Alec, as if nudged by the distress surrounding Jace, held him closer, “Hey, it’s okay, we’re just trying to figure out how to make things better, okay?”

“Did I- did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not. You’re amazing, but someone did something to you and we’re trying to see if you're alright. And I’ll be right here with you, so nobody else gets you, yeah?”

Having Alec beside did sound better, but he couldn’t see why he wasn’t alright. He felt fine, maybe a little weird. But _fine_. He wasn’t some baby to be coddled. And he told Alec that. Apparently the magic guy heard, because he was talking to him as well. Soothing, like Alec.

“That’s good that you feel fine, little blondie. But that weird feeling might be magic and just to be extra sure, I’d like to check you and Isabelle. I swear it won’t hurt, and your Alec will oversee everything.”

“It would really help me relax if you let him check you, Jace.” Alec assured him, and then looked to Isabelle and explained it to her as well. 

“ _Princess, would it be alright if the nice man could check if you are well? It is only so we are sure.”_

And if Izzy nodded that fast, as if she was braver, then he could do it, too, Jace thought. 

Alec was immensely proud of how well his siblings were doing, and as Magnus sat at the coffee table in front of them, he didn’t even see them being explicitly afraid. And really, part of it might have been Magnus, with all his charm and soothing words, still his heart swelled with pride. 

“Alright, so I will send my magic through the both of you, just so I know what other stuff is left in you by the mean Seelies, okay? It might tickle a bit but that's just your body sensing it. This is what it’ll look like,” and a bright blue flame sprouted from his manicured fingertips, dancing along his rings and fingers. Twisting as he rotated his wrist and slinked to and fro on his soft looking palm. 

As Alec translated for Izzy, he could sense the wonder of all those in the room. He was reminded how awfully young Clary and the mundane still were, they almost matched the starry-eyed wonder of the two toddlers beside him. 

Not that he was any better. 

His primal nature was screaming at him to snatch up the pretty shiny sparkles, along with those jewels they were wrapped around, those necklaces, and even the owner of the sparkles who seemed to glow more than any shiny thing he’d ever seen. He wanted to hoard all of it at his den, fly away and just admire it there. 

When he began to feed more of his magic, extending it out towards the children, Jace’s doubts were almost entirely wiped away and Izzy’s curiosity made her vibrate animately on her seat. 

Alec supposes that if he were a regular Shadowhunter, he’d bear more fear of a warlock scanning their young with magic. But he was himself, and he was more attuned with magic than anybody really knew. 

_His magic is pure,_ he thought, _like his intentions, then. But it’s aged, sturdy and consistent. Focused, too._

And that shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did. _He is handling my siblings, maybe I’m just relieved they’re in good hands. Gorgeous hands, too. And wide biceps, looks strong-- nope. Focus, Alec._

It was done as soon as his mental thirsting had been, and he could sense confusion on the man.

“What is it? Are they alright?” 

“Yes, of course they are. Worry not, they’re very healthy considering the situation. I sense nothing inherently ill in them, but the spell that has a hold of them has me at a disadvantage, I believe.” His head was titled, in thought, and his fingers were wiggling with the magic that he had pushed through them.

“They’re gonna be alright, though, right? I mean, they’re super cool and Izzy’s great as a kid, she really is, but she was chatting me all about science stuff before the wack elf guys and Jace might’ve been a slight di-jerk, we’ll be, we’re gonna get ‘em back right?” 

Simon was ranting and Clary didn’t have enough energy to stop him. Finally, Magnus rose and started to pace the room. 

“I believe I can undo the spell, but it’s nothing that I’ve entirely seen before. It might’ve been a mix of the Seelie prank spells I’ve mentioned, but it’s all guesswork presently.”

Alec felt a sigh of relief blow out and he loosened the grip he didn’t notice he had on his siblings. 

“Thank the Angels, it’s reversible. Do you have a time frame in mind?” 

“A couple of days should suffice, I’ll have to consult my library, even a few friends.” It also helped Alec that he didn’t seem worried, more so fascinated. Like it was a new project that he couldn’t wait to tinker. _It’s adorable._

“Uh, Alec? Are they supposed to be like that?” Clary asked, as she looked worriedly at Jace and Izzy. 

Both of whom were quietly giggling and had dazed looks. Alec’s head spun to Magnus in confusion, as he couldn’t sense anything bad on them.

“Ah, that might be an unforeseen side effect. The magic might have been doozy for such little bodies. And I do think it’s partly a sugar crash, from the hot chocolate earlier? Sleep will take them easily any minute.” 

_Oh, sugar._ Alec remembered keeping sweets away from Izzy back then, for this very reason. Well, maybe not to this extent. 

The mundane, though, did not seem to be as worried as Clary, as his eyes lit up and he made disgusting cooing noises that made Alec want to bite his head off.

“Aww, they look like they just smoke tons of weed!,” how he could say that with that much enthusiasm rattled Alec, “Who’s our wittle cwackheads? Cute little cwackheads? Didya schmoke pot? Didya?” 

“Please refrain from calling my siblings drug users, Lewis. And I think you’d both be off to your quarters. We’ll reconvene tomorrow. ” 

“But what about my memories?,” she looked between Magnus and Alec, pleading. “We can’t just give up! What if those memories have something important? Come on, Alec, please.”

“Dear, you aren’t giving up. Luke has given me an idea of what happened, but apparently, he missed a few details. I apologize for not being of help earlier. But I am here now, and we will find a way, Biscuit. Rest now, it’s been a long day for us all.” 

Before Alec could convince her more, she surged up and wrapped Magnus in a hug. 

Her teary ‘thank you’ was muffled by his extravagant jacket but it held enough of her gravitas that Alec saw Magnus wrap his arms around her tightly as well. 

When they parted, Simon took her elbow and led the both of them out. Magnus’ gaze didn’t stray from her til the door was closed, then it turned on him. _Calm down, heart._

“Thank you, Mr. Bane. Really. And of course the Institute will compensate you for your services. I will see to it.” 

“I would’ve been involved either way, I think. Clary Fairchild’s fate is tied to mine now, I think we would’ve crossed paths even without your youthful situation,” he mused with a chuckle. 

Alec felt an easy smile pull at his lips from this man. He was such a character, he couldn’t help but be drawn in. 

And Magnus would never admit it but the small smile knocked the wind out of him, who knew that this man, nothing short of powerful, could look so soft? _And directed at him, nonetheless._

He turned even softer as he looked back at his two charges, no longer giggling as if they were high, but leaning against one another in a light doze. _I can feel his love for them from where I stand._

“I should put them to bed, they’ve had a rough day,” he said as his smile deepened. He raised his hand for a shake, “Thank you again, for everything.”

A stray thought kept him from leaving, “Pajamas!” 

Alec’s startled face was the cutest thing he had seen, he was sure. 

“Uh, yes? They’re nice, I guess?”

“No, uh. I meant,” _Really Magnus, stuttering like you’re a hundred years old again?_ “Here,” and two sets of pajamas appeared at the table, as well as a pink baby bag. “ You were unprepared for them, yes? I thought it would help.” 

His hand found his ear cuff to toy with, regretting how he had come off too eager. 

“Oh! Thank you again, I hadn’t even thought of that. You’re a godsend, Mr. Bane. Thank you. I don’t see how I’ll ever repay you, aside from the compensation of course!” His blinding smile was enough, but Magnus did not want to be _that_ eager. 

“You may start by calling me Magnus, darling Alexander. And I shall stay in touch, though firemessages are a chore, so here is my personal number,” he threw in a wink for good measure, and he was glad for he saw a tinge of a blush rise up the hunter’s cheeks. 

Unbeknownst to Alec, Magnus left with a spring in his step. 

_Time to get his siblings to bed, then._

He turned and looked back at them, a smile automatically on his face. They were too cute. 

“Alright, up we go, you both need to change.” 

Gently shaking them awake, he let them sit up for a moment as he gathered the supplies Magnus had given. The pajamas looked to be a perfect fit and were made of the softest thing he had touched. He carried it in one hand along with the baby bag for Izzy. 

They were awake enough that he managed to arrange them so that he could carry them both and headed to his room. He was not leaving them alone in this condition. 

The Shadowhunters he passed all decided to be quiet as they saw the sleepy youngsters and only nodded their greetings at him. Many tried to be discreet at their cooing, most of them failed. 

When he got to his room, he was glad it wasn’t covered in dust, seeing that he rarely slept there. He used to always just be a visitor in this Institute. 

With perseverance and will, he got both of them to brush their teeth and into their comfy pajamas. He placed them in his wide bed then did the same for himself. 

Sinking into not-too rough sheets in between his most loved people, he could say he was the most relaxed for a long time. And that was with the worries of recent events. _That has to say something about the life I live. Though I could be even more relaxed if I had managed some time to shift and spread my wings, but this is good too._

He fell asleep with good thoughts, still. Even with Izzy’s bony knees and kicks and Jace’s starfishing. And maybe even dreamt of blue sparkles and warm brown eyes.

* * *

Luke wasn’t a paranoid man at all. But he _was_ cautious. He had a pack to protect after all. 

Which is why the moment that Maia’s report made it to him, he was immediately concerned. She had heard word that there was more Nephilim scattered on Downworld hotspots than there had been before. 

Had this happened a year or two before, he would’ve dismissed the information, thinking that the Institute had just thought to assign more people to them. But he knew better. Nephilim now didn’t automatically mean Shaodwhunters, they could also mean Circle members. Valentine’s men. 

Before, there had just been rumors of his return. And he’d had his suspicions then, of course he had. He’d be a fool not to. So he had taken precautions, alerted his pack enough, had them on the lookout. And that was just going off from rumors. 

Recent events had only cemented his dear old friend’s resurgence. 

And if this were to happen years back, Shadowhunters would not have been the people that he would go to with this information. He, along with the whole Downworld, had lost its faith on Shadowhunters, the Nephilim. _But Jace and Izzy were different. I hope their big brother is the same kind of different as them._

And deep down, he knew he had hoped for them to be good still, he did let Clary stay with them, _as if he could’ve put up much of a fight against them,_ but still, he had hoped. 

And so he set off for the New York Institute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorrryyyy!! i know i was gone for a long time but the words just escaped me :( i'll try and make it up tho, and i hope this is some good stuff that yall would like. anyways, i hope everyones being safe and taking care of themselves. love yall <3


	7. They Talk, It's Friendly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Magnus talk to friends. And Luke talks to potential friends.

It was almost seven in the morning when he woke up, and looking down at his siblings burrowing themselves beside him almost made him forget about his ringing phone that initially woke him. He carefully sat up and reached over Izzy to answer his phone, before it woke either of the two. _Grumpy children are not what I need this early._

“Alec! _And here I thought I told you to call me ASAP? What am I then? Your abuela’s ignored side dish? To think I am your closest friend, you lumbering dingo!”_

The rapid fire Spanish rant was assaulting his bleary and sensitive hearing, and he was really tempted to just hang up on his old friend back at the Buenos Aires Institute. _But sadly, I like my peace of mind, which will vanish if I do that._

“ _Ta_ _l, it’s too early for this.”_ , shouldering the phone, he accepted that he would not be getting in any more sleep and should just go and get ready. 

“ _Yes because it’s not as if I expected this call yesterday or anything.” And no, his friend could not be any more sarcastic._ Alec could tell that she was waving her hands in outrage now, she often spoke with gestures as much as he did.

A comically deep sigh was heard through the line so he dropped the toothbrush and toothpaste that he was holding to hold the phone better and throw his hand up in exasperation, as he felt he just had to, in order to convey his emotions. 

“ _Alright fine, I’m sorry. But a few things came up, I haven’t had the time to breathe and call you. And before you ask what is more important than you, you obnoxious peacock, my siblings are. One, they’re now toddlers. And two, I might be in the middle of a war, so there is that. And three’s not so important so let me not mention it, oh wait. Three is a mass murderer back from supposed death, so yeah, I think it’s important. Should I add in the crippling responsibility my parents have graciously dumped on me? No? You’re right, I shouldn’t. Nothing going on here.”_

“ _.... You could’ve just said you were busy, grumpy cat.”_ Her tone was light, but he knew better, hearing the underlying hurt. _Why is human interaction so hard?_

He regretted snapping at her immediately. Though he remembers having done worse the first few times she tried to get close to him. Well, a few dozen times, to be fully accurate. 

_Alec was twelve when his ‘visits’ to Argentina started. Officially, it was because his mother had wanted to introduce him to her home country, never mind that she didn’t grow up there, but in Idris. The truth wasn’t as sentimental though. He spent more and more time in the Buenos Aires Institute so that he was away from the Clave’s prying eyes. Out of the spotlight. For all that Maryse Trueblood was ambitious in wanting a prominent name, she had regretted it when Alec came. So she hid him, sequestered away in a small Institute, short trips at first. But by the time Alec was thirteen, he couldn’t call it visits anymore._

_Of course he understood what was happening. His mother was more his commander, and his commander did no coddling, no shielding him from harsh realities._

_So even in his first year there, he talked to no one. He responded to tutors’ questions, or orders from superiors, but never interacted with other Nephilim his age. He was entirely consumed by the fear of being found out, of stepping out the tight lines his parents kept._

_‘Do not get too comfortable, Alec, we can not risk it. You know what they’ll do, to you, to Isabelle.’_

_There really was never a choice, if this was what was needed to protect his little sister, he would do it. She was part of his Pride, he knew that now. His responsibility. And little Max, who had not come out yet, he was to be his responsibility, too._

_But then came Talerene Castel._

_The loud and proud Hispanic child that was sent to Idris, even before he arrived. Trouble maker and fearless, who loved attention much as she loved breathing._

_Alec hated her immediately._

_The concept was new to him, in a sense that it had never come from him. He’d surely received it plenty of times before. He didn’t understand it and it made him pause for a moment. The girl did nothing to him, nothing that he should be hateful to her about._

_But she was everything he was told not to be. She did everything that he was told not to do. And if he did anything remotely close to what she was doing, he’d cause a lot of hurt to his family. He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t stand it._

_So he decided he couldn’t stand her. Much more so when she had apparently decided that she was going to be his friend._

_“Hi I’m Talerene! I think the food here is amazing, don’t you?” She loudly said, as she slammed her tray down at his table over lunch. Just a few days after she arrived, and after he decided that he hated her._

_His brows shot up, because whether they were told or they just knew it, people in this institute never talked to him. Not for something that isn’t work or studying anyways. No one also sat near him. Something about vibes or whatever. It was for the best, so he never minded. Alec was a decisive child then, so he decided not to respond. If she needed to vomit words to someone, he’d prefer it be someone else, but he’d endure it, too._

_Seeing that she was being ignored, something that she would not stand for, she leaned in what she thought to be a threatening manner and whispered to him. “ I don’t know your deal, kid, but I’m going to be your friend. Even if everyone here tells me not to. Especially then. So if you wanna keep being mysterious and stuff to ward off people, it won’t work on me! I’m not scared of you and my Mama always say I’m stubborn!”_

_It would be much easier if he’d just agreed to be her friend, but Alec was stubborn, too. So came months more of this. Of him ignoring her and her being annoyingly persistent._

_All he really lived for then was coming back to see Izzy and their new siblings, Jace and Max. But he found that he looked forward to the little loudmouth that followed him around and made obnoxious and hilarious commentary about anything and everything._

_He wouldn’t call her a friend out loud for another three months, when he came back to Argentina, his mother and infant brother with him._

_She was still fuming with anger when they stepped through the portal. He had just beaten Jace, that Institute’s finest young fighter, when no one else could. Jace was amazed and had asked to train more with him. Izzy looked at him with undisguised awe and beamed at him. But his mother had claimed that they had to go back to the Buenos Aires Institute._

_His senses were developed enough that he could distinguish pheromones now, though he wished he hadn’t. There was anger and hate rolling off of her in waves, underneath it was a tinge of fear. All directed at him._

_When he emerged from his punishments he received in her room, he could hardly contain his tears._

_‘Reckless abomination’, she had called him. ‘Selfish and stupid.’ He left with a few more bruises than he had after training with Jace._

_That was how Val found him, jumped him more like it, on his way to his room, unshed tears clouding his eyes. And loud as she usually was, the whole way to his room and the rest of the night, she was quiet. Rubbing her small hand in circles across his back._

_Her smile wasn’t smug when he thanked her for being a good friend, it was pained._

  
  


His hand was on his pinched brows, just about to apologize when she cut him off again. 

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry. Save it. But seriously though, if you ever need back up, I’m alright with depriving Argentina of my amazing skills for a day or two. You know that right?”

Warmth filled his chest, remembering that she had also wormed her way into it, into his Pride too. “I- thank you, Val. I really am sorry. I promised to keep you updated. I really do think I’ve got things under control. The High Warlock here has already agreed to assist us. The pack leader has also.”

And truly, the Downworld leaders’ involvement was what eased some of his worry. Unlike the rest of the Nephilim, he trusted Downworlders and Nephilim alike. Which is to say not much, but Izzy did say it was his default. So he was being equally distrustful. But he was professional, and the two leaders he had met seemed competent enough to earn his professional respect. As did the team here in New York. He could manage. _There was no alternative that he would accept. Not if it meant harm to his people._

Saying his goodbyes and a few more reassurances, _honestly, and people thought he was the mother hen,_ he was showered and dressed for the day. Prepared for it, not so much. Not that there was a choice. 

Jace and Izzy’s entanglement on the bed was enough to put him in a considerably better mood.

  
  


* * *

Magnus had not been this intrigued since the Village People were rumored to be gay. He had his doubts that a straight person could pull off those looks but they didn’t hold a candle to his fascination now. 

The traces of Seelie magic that he had extracted from the Shadowhunter children had been tested and probed by him for the better part of his day and he was no closer to an answer than he was at the striking Lightwood’s office. It did not help that his mind kept getting lost in the gutter, especially when he remembers the soft smile and rosy blush that he spotted. 

Assuming one’s sexuality was not something he’d do, but oh did he _hope_. 

He hoped and told himself he was just intrigued, and ignored the small voice at the back of his head reminding him; _Nephilim, Nephilim. You’ll only hurt yourself._

Shaking his head of frankly distasteful thoughts, he got up to call Catarina. He was nothing short of a genius but her forte was healing, and that was an angle he felt needed her input in. _Even so, it wasn’t cast to cause harm, logically there was nothing to heal._

He had already surmised that time had passed through their bodies, rather than their bodies passing through time, which led them to revert to toddlers. And time theorems were a complicated undertaking that he often steered clear of, he still knew enough. He had an outline of a theory, which he was now explaining to Catarina. 

“Yes, dear, I thought that their bodies' fabric of time had been messed with, so I was thinking that we could heal it, so to speak, or restore it?”

“But if it were true, wouldn’t their bodies right itself and snap back to this time? Time has always corrected itself, Magnus, it is why time magic is both dangerous and fruitless.” 

“Very true, but time was wronged by outside forces, _forcefully_ , even without ill-intent, the snap back could prove dangerous. Best we right it now, then let it sort itself out. The process isn’t exactly gentle.”

He could hear her humming along to him and he knew that her mind was already working and piecing together a plan. Something he always admired his dear friend for was her quick brains. And her mutual love for alcohol, but that’s not what he usually tells her. 

They bounce ideas off of each other for a few more minutes and decide that this was better done in person, she called him out for just wanting an excuse to dress for an afternoon out and he, of course, had pretended to be offended. 

He was out the door in record time but Catarina still lifted an unimpressed brow at him, “You know, you don’t have to _always_ be fashionably late, right?”

“But I must, my dearest! For the sake of fashion, it is a burden I must bear.” He even shook his head forlornly, she only rolled her eyes, used to her companions dramatics by now. 

They took a seat on the outdoor tables of their favorite brunch and afternoon tea place, and he once again marveled that they found this little hole in the wall. It had a warm cosy feel to it, and the owners were an old Italian immigrant couple. They were everyone’s soft and pure grandparent and would often greet the regulars as if they were family. They greeted Magnus as if he were family. And he didn’t think it was because he tipped handsomely. 

“Nonna! You are utterly beautiful this day,” he said warmly as the old woman wobbled towards them. Her giggles were melodious and youthful, “Oh hush you little charmer! How have you been, Magnus? You’ve not stopped by in months! No time for an old croon anymore?”

This easy teasing and genuine care was what he missed most, he realizes. “I’ll always have time for you, young lady. It’s Catarina here who has been so hard to get a hold of.”

When she slapped his bicep in indignation, like a sibling would when tattled on a parent, he fought to hide his snicker behind his hands. 

“Ugh, Nonna, you know I’m better than him at managing my time. Just for that, please don’t give him any of your chocolate puffs! He doesn’t deserve any!” 

They continued to bicker til Nonna left them to get their usual orders and when the tea and pastries arrived, they sombered up. _Time to be adults then._

It was then that Catarina seemingly remembered something that made her face sour. 

“Cat? What’s the matter?” 

“Magnus, I know you’re strong.” _Promising start, kind of makes me nervous._ “But you do remember that these are Shadowhunters you’re tangling yourself with, yes? A slight mistake, on their _young,_ no less, and they’ll have your head.” _Ah, that again. She hasn’t even heard the worst part yet._

Suddenly remembering that there was more to the situation than he had said, he made an effort to look as casual as possible. Which, of course, only made her concern grow. There was clear worry in her eyes, and the lines among her forehead seemed to age her years. 

“Alright, spill. What did you get yourself into, Bane?” _Bane,_ he winced.

“So dear, you remember sweet little Clarissa? And her mother Jocelyn?” 

Her face twisted to panic then, eyes darting around and he felt her magic turn on the defensive. “Fret not, I’ve already made sure no eavesdropping can happen.” Her magic back off, but only by a bit, her eyes still frantically telling him she didn’t like those names one bit. 

“Yes, the one I specifically told you not to be involved with,” she replied dryly. _This is the start of so many ‘I-told-you-so’s._ But there was no denying it, she had been right, it’s coming back now to bite his glorious ass. 

“Mhm,and - well, in addition, funny enough, uh. TheyseemtobethereasonsthatI’minvolvedthistimeI’msorry.”

Magnus Bane was a centuries old warlock that hated feeling helpless. And he was never one to cower away. But he just ripped the metaphorical band aid and he believes death will come from the hands of his best friend. 

But he had already sealed his faith when he decided to throw her caution to the wind and help a desperate mother, the one he could anyway.

So he told her about originally just coming in at Luke’s recommendation, he knew the man would not feed him to the wolves for trivial reasons. When he mentioned deciding to go because of his mood that night, she momentarily forgot her anger and reached out a comforting hand. 

But then came Alexander. 

“Oh the new Shadowhunter was fascinating, to say the least. Though his little sister bathed me in chocolate, he made up for it. What a perfect gentleman. And he even apologized to me, Cat! _Three times!_ Deary me, if the old cabbage heard about it he’d say I was hallucinating. Even more when he hears it was a Lightwood.

Who had even known that vile woman could produce such finery. What a sight he was, my friend. Taller than me. The tousled hair really was an exquisite addition. And that fair skin of his was perfect to see that delectable blush. That I put there, no less.”

He hadn’t realized he was rambling but he did notice that his friend had a _look_ grazing her dark features. And really, wasn’t he saying the positive bits? What on Edom has him in trouble now?

“Oh, were you done gushing about this Shadowhunter boy toy? Please don’t stop on my account.” 

_I do wonder sometimes why my circle of friends is filled to the brim with sass. Well, pot, kettle, I assume._

“Magnus…”, the warning was clear in her tone. She was also serious about this then? What a mood she is in today. 

“I just said he was pretty!” 

“Pretty my ass, you were waxing poetically!”

“Oh, so I was doing what you were doing with Queen’s drummer? What was his name again? Robby? Roderick?”

“Roger! You damn well know his name! If you’d only admit that you’d have slept with him if he hadn’t had eyes for me. And piss off, I did not _gush_ about that boy.”

He honestly could continue on forever, in this bubble of time if he could. Bantering with his old friend, like they were just fresh from university, with lives that looked up. Free from the burdens of titles or responsibility. _This is one of the random bursts in the party that is life, the ones I pray to keep for eternity._

Alas, they could not be children for any longer and when he portalled back to his cold loft, alone with his thoughts, he had put together a semblance of a plan. _Time and healing magic, not my strong suits, but I am nothing if not multi-talented._

* * *

  
  


Clary Fray was not patient. 

Well, she hadn’t been a fussy child or a spoiled one, but she was used to having her way. She was an only child with a mother who had too much guilt in her eyes that she always caved in for her daughter. She had Luke, all warm smiles, ‘sure kiddo’ and ‘of course’. And Dot who always smuggled her sweets on the rare times her mother had said no. 

All in all, she wasn’t familiar with being told no. Not by her mother, Luke, Dot, and not ever by Simon. 

“Lewis, you are amazing,” she beamed when he came back to where she was subtly spying on him. He was working his nerd-hot charm on one of the Ops Handlers, Amelia, trying to get information on a lead that they found in the libraries. 

He blew out a shaky breath, eyes wide, and led her back to the room they were kept at, as his eyes still darted around like he’d just stolen something. 

“Calm down, Si, you guys just talked!” Using her butt to close the door, she leaned on it as he paced around the room, “You got something good didn’t you? She was really yammering on. I told you we got this!”

Stopping in front of her, his hands waving wildly, he said “Yeah, I got a lot, that’s for sure! And it’s the type ‘a lot i don’t like! We’re gonna get ourselves killed out there, Fray. 

She said their mouths _and_ eyes were sewn shut. Sewn! Who does that? And why did they have to do that? Huh? ‘Cause they’re crazy, that’s why. And ya know what they gon’ be using on ya to make your memories go back? A sword, Clary, a _sword!_ Like, they will cut open your metaphorical mind or somethin'. 

There have been people who _died_ \- no wait not people - Shadowhunters! Who are literally half angels!”

She let him catch his breath before responding. He was being overloaded and just needed a bit of time to get his bearings. _Or I think he does, he’s not usually this wound up about stuff. And that’s saying something. His accent is even rearing its head, he wound up pretty bad._

“Clary, I really think we’re in over our heads here.”

His soft brown eyes were pleading with her, asking her something that she couldn't do. She couldn’t _give up_ on her mother. The only family she has left. It broke her heart. 

“Si…”, she started. But he already knew, he was shaking his head, arms hugging himself in hopes of finding reprieve. _Sometimes the normal world is too much and he’s drowned in it before, but this? This is him drowning and getting stuck at the bottom. In the middle of a tornado. Underwater._

With his back towards her, he slumped on the bed. It wasn’t long before he felt her sitting cautiously beside him, her arm snaking around his shoulders. He was man enough to admit he leaned into it heavily. 

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you, too. And you don’t even know how much you being here with me has helped. I didn’t even stop to think if you were alright with all of this.”

“Thank you for acknowledging my pain, this is really good communication.” 

“Oh my God Simon, I shouldn’t have let you attend that seminar-”

“-Hush it was enlightening”

“Yeah, okay sure,” she giggled. This was the easy air that she always loved in their friendship, the one she almost messed up. 

“But you do understand that I _need_ to take those risks, right? If Jace and Izzy weren’t … preoccupied, we’d have them as back up. But it’s just us. It always has been and it always was enough, hasn’t it?” Her hopeful eyes were on him, like she was pushing him to say yes with her mind. 

“Is this considered gas-lighting, you think?” He joked, but when the sides of his eyes crinkled and his smile broke free, they both knew Clary got her way again. 

* * *

He missed this. 

He missed having his siblings being children. 

Alec was wondering how he could miss it when he always had his siblings, even if they were miles away or if he was with them for a few short days. 

But as he watched dear little Isabelle bat her lashes to the assigned cook, Trevor, for a treat, and Jace being so enthralled with him cooking, he felt for the first time in a while contentment. 

After the discomfort that the kitchen staff first displayed when he and his little charges walked in, the people had warmly accepted them. The two were getting restless being cooped up in his office with him, their youthfulness providing much more energy that needed to be spent. A lot more energy, since he had already done his rounds with them earlier that morning. 

How Izzy could charm the pants off of everyone and still have energy, he couldn’t fathom.

Jace was another thing, though. He was just like when they first met. Always so confident and measured, but cautious, too. So when the other adults tried to coo at how cute he was, mostly those he had joked around with when he was his adult self, he stood tall and smiled his picture-perfect smile. And his showing-off was a bit more subtler, too. 

A scathing comment about the trainee’s form when they passed the training room earlier almost had Alec snorting out loud. Leave it to Jace to still prove he was top boy at seven years old. 

He was currently sporting the coffee he was given, watching Jace munch on snacks beside Isabelle, when his phone rang. He got it out and was surprised to see it was Alpha Luke. 

“Trevor? Could you mind them for me just for a few minutes? I have to take this.” A go signal from the cook and he was moving to an alcove in the hallway, swiftly answering the call.

“Alec Lightwood, anything the matter Alpha Luke?” Precise and efficient, just like he’d been taught, not crass or rude. 

The man’s grave tone had Alec straightening out, his mind already working a mile a minute. 

“Of course, I’ll tell my people here to expect you and escort you to my office immediately.”

Just as he was moving to go back to the kitchens, he stopped a new recruit to relay the orders to the guards at the front door. He already felt the tension that this strangely relaxing day had erased creeping up his back. 

The conversation he was to have with Alpha Luke was not one that he needed his siblings to be present for. And reluctantly admitting that his protective streak ran a mile, he only trusted on Nephilim in this Institute to look after them. 

Gathering the two, along with some extra snacks that he pretended not to notice, he hunted down his Head of Security. 

“Underhill,” said man’s head was glued to a holoscreen that he recognized to show the Bronx and their patrol patterns there. He turned his attention to him immediately, hearing the authority in his voice. “I need a favor from you, if it's alright?”

Though he was confused, since apparently it wasn’t an order he was receiving but a _favor,_ he remained his calm guise. Still unsure, he nodded to his boss. 

“I’m taking a meeting with Alpha Luke and it’s not exactly a child friendly environment. There’s no one I trust here more thank you.”

You see, Alec Lightwood’s eyes always did this _thing_ when he spoke intently to you. Underhill noted it back when he was just a new transferee to the New York Institute and the then-teenage Lightwood was visiting. Though he sensed that his parents’, Maryse and Robert Lightwood, disapproved of him stepping out of line and was entirely too strict on the boy, he still held duties that were far above his pay-grade, _and his age then._

He was being given an order by Alec, and he was explaining to him the specific details of a mission that he was to be part of when he noticed it. There was no other way to describe it but _intense._ It was like he was looking into your soul, attuning himself to the air you let out, the emotions that you can’t help but let slip. Sometimes he even thinks that Alec isn’t just a Shadowhunter. 

The way his thoughts were heading seemed to be a dead-end, always dragging him away from them. From thinking much about Alec and _what_ he was. 

“I’ve taken care of little cousins before, sir, I won’t let you down.” 

With that taken care of he headed to his office and didn’t have to wait long for when Amelia was escorting an anxious Alpha in. 

Standing up and extending his hand for a shake, he greeted the man respectfully. 

“You said it was urgent?” 

“It is, I’m sorry to get in the middle of your trouble. I know you’re still dealing with the incident with Jace and Isabelle. 

But, it’s Valentine. 

I’ve always had a hunch that he wasn’t done. So I stationed wolves where I can, just alerted them enough to be aware. And the report came. Nephilim with _circles_ on their necks have been spotted on the outskirts of New York. This was the last straw that confirmed it for me, though there weren’t many to begin with. Clary’s situation alone is proof enough. But I was naive to believe that it was just some leftover fanatics trying to recreate what he started. I was foolish to hope that he really died in that fire. They’re - _he’s_ back and plotting something, Alec.” _Shit is hitting the fan_ , but he didn’t say it. He was a professional after all. 

That made the younger man pause, his gaze straying from the wolf as he thought things thoroughly. Of course the Clave had inklings of this, just a few months old, but still there was caution sent to those with high enough clearance. _Confidential_ caution. The Clave wasn’t as incompetent as previous situations had insinuated. 

That being said, if the local pack leader was getting wind of it, then there was a slim chance of keeping things under wraps. 

_He is no ordinary pack leader,_ that much he knew. 

The best course of action would be to recognize the threat for what it really is. He had never really agreed with some of the Clave’s ways. _The scheming, greed, and lust for power is all so human. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it._

“Alright, the following minutes will be confidential. Just between you and me, Alpha Luke. One leader to another, is that good?” 

Luke was momentarily taken aback. He knew from his past as a Shadowhunter, that whatever this boy will share with him or will do, isn’t standard protocol. _Either I made the right decision bringing this to him, or I’ve damned us all to hell._ Confusion aside, he nodded his approval. 

“The Clave knows.” 

_So shit has hit the fan._ It took the wolf a moment to answer. And here he thought he was the one to bring surprising news.

“I’m honestly not _that_ surprised. Off the record, but the Clave’s full of bastards.” To which he saw only earned him a raised brow. “No offence to you or your parents. I wouldn’t put this past them. But whether this will make them look bad or they think it’s an inconvenience, it’s happening. And we have to do something.” He poised his back for some heavy arguing. He had already gone over and drawn up counters to whatever the Nephilim might throw at him. 

“I agree,” he said.

“Yes, but hear me out - wait, you agree?” 

“Yes. This is a threat, and we have to be aware of it. Sweeping it under the rug isn’t going to do anything. And I’m sorry to not have included you in the plans earlier, seeing your unique position, but there has been some action done.” 

Luke was starting to hate that mask, just then. It was impenetrable, but his eyes were another story. The honesty in them made him want to believe him, but anyone who presents that kind of facade needed to be dealt with some wariness. 

“My ‘unique position’? I’m not some pawn in a game here, Alec.” 

“I know that,” _there’s that genuinity again,_ “but you were his parabatai.” 

He leaned back and blew a measured breath out. _So he knew then, it’s not as if it was a secret._

“You knew him, at some point. And if it's a mass murdered like him that we’ll be dealing with, we have to use whatever ace we’ve got.” 

Alec was leaning on his forearms on the desk. Trying to convey openness in his body language. One he was taught in his early _alternative_ lessons. And he was getting some ways through to the man when his door burst open. 

He was glad it wasn’t Underhill, who his mind first thought was bringing his siblings in any hurt condition. But what came next really wasn’t any better. 

“Sir? Clary Fray got out of the Institute.” 

_He really should tell people to stop bursting through his door._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a month, I return from death. Thanks to anyone who's still with me and again, any and every criticism or feedback is welcome. Its my first published so im rlly trying to improve hihi. Also, i have a thing for matt's gorgeous eyes so ignore me simping about them and yeah. Bunch more clues on this one, more to come! 
> 
> a̶l̶s̶o̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶t̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶i̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶a̶l̶i̶c̶s̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶'̶r̶e̶ ̶e̶i̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶,̶ ̶f̶l̶a̶s̶h̶ ̶b̶a̶c̶k̶s̶,̶ ̶s̶t̶r̶e̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶d̶s̶,̶ ̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶l̶a̶n̶g̶u̶a̶g̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶ ̶f̶i̶g̶u̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶r̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶r̶a̶n̶s̶l̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶l̶o̶w̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶e̶r̶r̶u̶p̶t̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶u̶t̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶e̶n̶t̶e̶n̶c̶e̶s̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶y̶e̶a̶h̶
> 
> hope yall enjoy this  
> come yell at me on twitter @loverofart15


	8. She's in Trouble, They're in Big Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clary's in trouble. Is it a date? And father of the year award goes to...

_They could do this._

Being surrounded by Vampires in the dead of night is something that they could handle, _couldn’t they?_

And really, Clary wasn’t all that caught up in this world as much as she’d have liked in this moment but she knew there was a peace treaty of sorts going on. She thinks so. They have yet to make their move, so she took that as a good sign. But Simon shaking uncontrollably beside her was not.

“Si, calm down,” she whispered, but she saw the woman closest to them smirk menacingly. _Do they have like, super hearing or something? ‘Cause super speed and strength sure isn’t bad enough._

Before she could snap at who seems to be the head bitch, Simon scoffed. “I am the appropriate amount of calm given the situation, Fray!” 

He gulped another hasty breath and kept taking steps back. 

_When had they started stepping forward?_

They were being backed to the pillars and she took a few moments to scan their surroundings. She felt that that would be what a proper Shadowhunter would do. 

She spared a half second glance to the moss-covered cement pillar holding up the bridge they were under. The moon was hiding behind some clouds and the only considerable source of light was from the street lamps above. Twenty feet from the left of them, she could see the outlines of a dark tunnel with puddles of sewage water pooling. She was in no way versed in the sewage systems of her city, but it seems better than the current situation. 

She almost thought they could book it. A plan was starting to form in her mind. If they could just get through these Vampires. 

“You know,” her voice that was as slimy as its owner purred, “your hair is much more vibrant than what I thought it would be. And no one mentioned how _cute_ your little pet there is.” 

She almost felt like standing in front of her best friend then, with how she looked to be undressing his now less shaky body. Reaching out for him, she saw then how his eyes looked a bit glassy, his eyebrows arched inquisitively, like he was _interested._

“Me? I, My, I’m cute?”

His voice sounded different, too. Lighter and airily. She hated it. 

“Simon!,” _oh my god, she’s doing the thing!_ She shook him by the elbow harder, “Snap out of it!” He didn’t even spare her a glance, his dilating pupils solely trained on the woman. 

“You! Stop it right now! I told you already, we don’t have the cup! I don’t know where to find it. I swear!” Plan now forgotten, her pleas turned desperate. She would _not_ be losing her best friend tonight, not in this mess she knew she made. 

“Aw, poor baby angel. Frustrated are we? You should try shopping, really loosens up the tension.” 

Some of her cronies even laughed at that. If this was comedy to them, she found she even pitied them. That yet-to-be named bitch looked too smug, she was tempted to just come right up to her and punch it off. But then her face turned sharp, beady eyes zeroing on her and lips pulled to a tight grin. _Predatory._

“But sadly, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Boys, take the mundie. I’m sure you’re just as resourceful as your father. Get me the cup and you get your pet back.” 

Before she could hold on to Simon, who was not protesting in the least, they already had him beside that woman. Her brain fought to catch up with what was happening. _Her father?_

“No, you don’t understand! I don’t know how to find it! Just take me, I’ll be more useful, please.” 

“Three days, little angel. If you’re not at the Dumort by then,” Clary gasped as she fell on her knees crying, and the woman just tipped Simon’s head dangerously close to her face, “I guess this one’s all mine to devour, no?” 

She was still crying out pleas to them, but the next moment they were gone. Just like that. Without even a significant amount of gusting wind, like she’d seen in the movies. 

For maybe the hundredth time since her cursed birthday, as her whole life went to hell, she felt irrevocably and utterly lost. 

What a sad picture she must look like, she thought. A naive and clueless little girl, playing adult in an arena she knew nothing of. Slumped under a bridge, with all her fiery fight gone. Lost in her mother’s world, now managing to get her best friend lost, too. She had almost wished they had taken her, just so she wouldn’t bear any of the blame. _It’s too much._

The urge to scream was high. But she found that her throat was scratchy from the crying she’d done. A sound some ways to her left brought her back to awareness. Footsteps - multiple footsteps. With strength that she didn’t know she still had, she rose to her feet, took up a wider stance and looked to the general area that they seem to be coming from. She couldn’t pinpoint from where exactly they were coming from, it was like they were spread out. 

Before any more fear could take hold of her heart, a blur dropped down from the bridge above her. _Several blurs_ . And with that small second that she looked away from the first thing that dropped in front of her, the _thing_ was already pacing towards her. She found it funny that she was more scared than relieved to see him. 

“Alec,” she said when he’d reached her. He reached for her elbow, turning her this way and that, eyes scanning her frame. “I can explain.”

She hated how shaky her voice came out, she was the perfect image of a child caught red handed. Her fists were clenched, but he still saw how they shook, if his narrowing eyes were anything to go by. 

His lips were still in a tight line, thinking of how to berate her best, she supposed, when another blur called out to her. 

“Clary! You’re safe,” Luke’s arms were around her the next moment. Tears were in her eyes again, with how much relief she could hear in his voice and just being in the safety of his arms again. 

“Luke, they have him.” She couldn’t hold in her sobs anymore. “I couldn’t stop them, Luke. They have Simon.” 

“Who has who?” Alec’s sharp tone was a mirror of his impassive face. Though his body was taut and the air around him almost simmered like his anger seeped out of him and into it. She gulped, wiping her tears hastily, “Simon. They, I think, they were vampires”

The few Shadowhunters spread around them tried to school their features but she still saw how alarmed they were, how they all looked to Alec, who remained as impassive as earlier. Even Luke tensed and a quiet rumble began in his chest. 

“You _think_ they’re vampires?” 

His face turned positively dark just then, and she couldn’t help but lean into Luke’s arms more. His voice was eerily level, “This is no light accusation, Fray. Are you absolutely sure it was vampires that took the mundane?” 

Scared as she was, she was also indignant that they wouldn’t listen to her. _It’s my best friend on the line here._ “Yes! And the leader, the woman, said she wanted the cup. And she wouldn’t listen that I don’t know about a cup or where it is, so she took Simon. We have to get him back, Alec. We-”

She was about to take her complaint to Alec’s face, getting riled up and figuring out what they and to do next. But Luke was there, holding her back. “Calm down, kid. Alec’s right-”

“Of course he is!” She shoved his arms off, remembering whose side he really was on. “He’s right, I’m wrong, and suddenly you’re back on my side now, Luke? What was it you said to those people again? ‘ I was tolerating them for all those years for my pack’, how noble of you!” 

Alec was still infuriatingly calm when he strode to her, catching her by the bicep and ignoring her protests. 

“Grayward, fan out your team. See if you can determine who was here. Do not take the offensive tonight. Report back straight to me. No one else is to be informed of this, unless I say they’re allowed to be. Dismissed.” 

* * *

Luke knew better. He should have known better. To think that the measures he and Jocelyn took was enough to protect Clary. How foolishly naive of him. It was Valentine after all. 

As he stood a ways beside her, trailing after Alec, who seemed pretty pissed off, his heart broke for her. He knew that the conversation that had to be had in Alec’s office would be a lot for her to handle. And the institute head that had jurisdiction over her, rational as he seems, does not look like a man who’d consider his little girl’s emotional wellbeing. 

Alec took his seat behind the desk briskly. He moved to sit at the sofa just in front of him, and Clary sat at the other end of the sofa. It almost hurt him, to have her distrust him so. Better to have it done now then. 

A beat of silence went over the room, but apparently it was a beat too long for Clary. 

“So what? We’re just going to sit here while those monsters have Simon?! ” 

“Clary, this is a serious political conflict. If it happened exactly as you said it has, they’re breaking the Accords and the Nephilim would deal with it and still save Simon.” _Those pesky leeches. It’s not enough that he had to deal with them at work._

He honestly doesn't know how to go about this, but he sure as hell won’t let her anger the Shadowhunter any more than he already is. “ Alec?” 

At the call of his name, he shifted his gaze from the soothing fireplace to the wolf. Luke couldn’t help but think that the fire in his irises almost seemed to come behind them, instead of a reflection. He let go of a subtle sigh, the only sign of strain he showed.

“Need I remind you that you ‘ _just sitting here’_ would have prevented your little mundane from getting captured in the first place?” 

He hadn’t sneered the words out, but the effects were the same if he had. Clary was caught on words, and she had this expression when someone else voiced her own thoughts to her. 

“Need I also remind you, that if I am right, it might be because I was not thrown into this world, oh I don’t know, _last week_? 

So maybe, if I tell you, as your superior officer, that you stay put in a protected area, you stay there and not endanger another life.”

She was sniffling now, head tucked so low looking at her twiddling thumbs that he just had to reach out to her. He was glad she accepted it, or was it that she was too lost in her grief that she hadn’t noticed. 

Maybe in the future Luke would be able to laugh at the sight. How this was his role even then, back when Jocelyn would gather the anger to be mad at her daughter. _The good cop,_ ironically. Though he supposed it is so entirely different as Alec was not a woman he was deeply in love with that he took up being an Alpha of a pack for her, or that Alec wasn’t even being a bad cop, just an intimidating cop stating facts. 

“Now, why don’t we do this like last time, little red. All I need is a recounting of all the events leading up to supposed Vamps taking the mundane.” 

* * *

Again, he really should just be thankful he’s alive right now. 

There must be a record for near-death experiences cause he’s sure he’s up there by now. The good thing is that it really didn’t feel like a near-death experience. More like tripping on acid. Not that he’s ever tried that before. He was a straight laced kid, his mother loved to gloat to her friends. And he was even kind of proud how proud his mom is of him. 

_Guess she won’t be proud if she knew that I’m in a Vampire hangout ‘bout to be dinner._

At the very least though is that the place wasn’t as bad as he initially thought. Sure the first floors were dun down and dingy, and honest to God, _reeked_ of death. But the top floors to where they were passing by now was almost luxurious. But when he looked a little too closely, he noticed that it only looked luxurious. The gold details on the furniture are cracking on the sides, the beams look hollow, the lights are covered in a thin layer of dust and the plush pillows are picture perfect and so does everything else, but they all just seem so _dead_. 

Simon didn’t know how much time passed, or what happened before they stepped foot into the building. But he knew his brain was foggy and that he should probably be more worried than he was right now. Who was he with again? 

Almost running into one of the men’s back, he stopped when the man told him that they’re here. “Get in.” 

‘In’ happened to be another luxurious looking room with a creepy coffin in the middle. _Oh, are those knives real? So shiny._ “Wait, why am I going in here?” 

The man in the expensive looking suit just rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers in Simon’s eyes. He blinked a few times, and he suddenly wished the guy didn’t snap him out of whatever funk he was just in. He started to hyperventilate so much he hadn’t noticed the man shutting the metal door, or the echo of every little thing being bounced back in the room. 

He did, however, notice how there wasn’t a hot breath on his skin when the man leaned to whisper in his ear. 

“Camille isn’t someone you’d want to mess with, kid. Just keep quiet in here and maybe your girlfriend will get you out in time unscathed. Got it?” 

Simon wasn’t sure if it was the detached tone of the guy, or how his eyes seemed to be like the ones on fake mannequins, maybe even how freaking perfect his skin was. Too perfect maybe, unnatural in a sense.

“She, uh, she isn’t my girlfriend?” _Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Back it up, Lewis._ “I mean, I’d love it if she was, cause you know everybody says we’d be a great couple. Maybe not everybody, obviously, you didn’t say that. Or that lady before. Camille was it? Yeah, not everybody. Not that I have a crush! Or anything! Yep, nope. Not. No. I should shut up now.”

“Should’ve not spoken at all. Just-”, a long-suffering sigh, “stay here and stay away from Camille.” 

See, he _thinks_ that guy was actually trying to be nice to him but his brain must still be a bit jizzed. Now, time to fixate on anything but his kidnapping. 

* * *

Kidnapping a mundane. _Really._

Because what would the world gain from letting little ole Alec Lightwood rest. Not the advancement of progressive plans for the whole Shadow World, no. Not the safety of the mundane in New York and the neighboring states. Nope, the world would _not_ gain from a well-rested, absolutely not temperamental Alec, who could do good if he’d just have the time. 

He had left the little girl and her father to talk in his office for now. He did not have enough patience stored to handle the emotion wafting from the both of them. He was glad he was stable enough to reel in his anger earlier, or the weatherman would have another field day and that would be too glaring a signal to his parents.

Though, he supposes he’s not entirely to blame if he loses it one of these days. 

Who in their right human minds would set off to the Silent Brothers with a mundane, with ‘research’ based on a talkative woman’s chatter. Maybe if she’d actually been smart enough to at least sneak onto their databases, _with actual solid information_ , then he wouldn’t be as mad. It’s like they listed the most stupid steps and - 

_I am not ranting in my head about these reckless children. I’m entirely too young to get greys._

What would give him greys are his little siblings. 

He was just outside of the common rooms by the Quarters and he can already feel the frustration rolling off of Underhill. And that man was a saint, all patient smiles and focused attention. His little ones were extraordinary. 

Feeling for the man, he went in to not yet relieve him but join him for a while. Clary should put up a good tantrum or three, he expects. 

By the grace of whichever Angel, no one was hurt yet. The cat that was held hostage by Isabelle’s affection was still surviving, and the very real blades that Jace was refusing to give back to Underhill had yet to maim the man. 

Underhill himself seems to have seen better days but, like a good soldier, is still fighting to the last bullet, or to this case the last will. 

“Please, Jace, there are way more appropriate weapons that you could train with. Heck, ya don’t even need to be training, isn’t that fun?”

“He’s right, you know.”

He was very flattered and touched with how both kids seemed to see him as the most interesting thing since sliced bread and immediately ran to greet him. Well, Izzy ran while Jace power walked to play off his ‘uncool’ dependency to an older brother. 

“ _I made a friend, big brother! The cats here shall all love me by the time I am done with them.”_

Mildly concerned for the cats but still he congratulated her on her mighty quest and achievements. Jace now had crossed his arms, uninterested in the blades UNderhill had swiped from him, and was regarding Alec curiously. Arrogantly, some would say, but that is just his default. 

“So, what was so important we couldn’t hear it? Did you fight some demons? Or Werewolves? Vampires? I bet it was those Fairies, weren’t it? How did you win?”

Chuckling, he stopped him before even more questions came out, “Nothing like that. It was very boring, all politics that wouldn’t get you excited. Even I wished I was out here with you both.” 

Matters were far from boring but it was true that he just wished he was with them most of the time. Turning to his, essentially, right hand man, “They are not much trouble, are they? I might need you to see to them for a bit longer.”

“The retrieval was a success, sir?” 

Here he was thinking that there were things in this institute that escaped the man's knowledge. 

“Yes, though-”

_Caller ID: Magnus Bane. Suddenly I’ve developed arrhythmia._

“Mr. Bane, ah, Magnus. What can I do for you?”

Looking out of his massive windows in his loft, Magnus couldn’t help a small smile. Not even a minute in, what a young fool he really is. 

“Oh nothing too much, deary.I hope I have not interrupted?” 

_As if I would ever mind an interruption if it were you,_ “No, you didn’t.”

“Splendid! Well I have news, Alexander. A friend of mine has helped me with a plan that would theoretically get your two toddlers back to legal drinking ages.” 

Magnus would bet that that enthralling gleam in the Shadowhunter’s eyes were there again. The thought almost made him forget the nerves that were having a mosh pit party in his stomach. _Well, they didn’t call me fearless for nothing. Here goes nothing._

“Though there are a few complicated bits that I decree warrant a personal conversation. Over a cup of coffee, perhaps?” 

Not even half a second had passed and mayhaps Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn and overall bad ass warrior, was asking the ground to swallow him. _Ragnor should mourn me now, Catarina as well, where did I put my will again? I should move to Aust-_

“That is amazing, Magnus! And coffee sounds wonderful! Tomorrow?” 

“Uh, yes. I. I shall text you the um, place. I know just the place.”

“Great, see you then Magnus.”

If Magnus was a stronger man, he may have thought of a witty and flirty remark before cutting the call. Or he would have not vocally expressed his excuse that this was a move to ally himself and the Warlock Community with the Shadowhunters to his judgemental best friend. But he is only a man, faced with a voice so smooth that could even out do Cate Blanchett. 

Magnus gripped his phone tighter to his beating heart and leaned his forehead to the window. 

Alec gulped and pocketed his phone and tried to hastily wipe the condensation from the window. He even peeked from the alcove he wandered into, left and right, to see if anyone was close enough to hear his thundering heart or see his beet red face. He then looked up and out to the sky if there were any changes to the weather pattern, thankfully there were none. 

He sure wanted there to be though. _I think I just got asked out by Magnus Bane._

_I think I just said yes._

_Holy shit Mother will skin me alive. And then roll me onto salt. And possibly curse me to hell as well._

But no, it could _just_ be coffee, couldn’t it? 

Is that how getting asked out is? He thinks so, there were teenage girls that tried to before. Even a few boys who he were tempted in the tiniest bit to agree to. It was what it looked like! 

_Okay, back up plan. If he didn’t mean it like that, I could say it was beneficial to Downworld relations. With my plans, it was likely to happen, but. That’s a fat excuse. Do better Alec, goddammit. … I could ask him for assistance on the Vampire negotiation. How needy of me._

Startling out of his reverie, he noticed he was already on his way back into his office. Luke’s shaky voice and Clary’s accusing one drifting out to his ears even hallways away from it. He really needed to ward that room better. Granted his hearing was more than average, but it was a risk that he felt couldn’t be ignored.

What he heard though, made him halt. And that he did really, _really_ want to ignore. 

“No Luke! I won’t accept it. You’re lying. You are.”

“You know this in your heart that I’m not. Valentine _is_ your father.” 

* * *

Fatherhood was a profession that was truly laborious. 

This is what Magnus made a point to reiterate to his almost son Raphael whenever the Vampire stressed him out, even a bit. Like at present, when he was basking in the afterglow of not being rejected by his crush but can not since said son was calling for help with his evil ex. 

“ _Ai, Magnus, this is serious! She is breaking the Accords, and taking us with her!”_

“Well, you could always stage that coup I’ve been telling you about.” 

Magnus said it so lightly, flippantly even, but both knew that he was dead serious. They had enough evidence, motivation, and influence to get it done. But dear Raphael had always been a pacifist at heart, _I was raised a good Christian padre._ He could never let that many in their clan die, not when they had so many newly turns. 

The most action he had done was to save as many as he could from the feeding dens Camille orchestrated, and discouraged members from joining in the feeding. He’d even cover up the more evident crime scenes and endured that detective wolf every now and then. 

And his _padre_ knew of the lengths his sweet lad had gone so that he would not have to deal with that vile woman in his account. But now, it was what he was asking for in a way. It was the last straw, he was being pushed to his limits. And that would never do, not for his boy. 

“Hold on for a day, _mi hijo._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another one! Honestly, you guys are amazing. Thank you for the comments, they give me the will to continue. So much more planned for this, I hope you guys enjoy it. 
> 
> ps. arrythmia is a thing when ur heart beats irregularly, its a serious thing but ye. our boys are nothing if not dramatic. 
> 
> Love you all, stay safe! And as Magnus said, hold on for a day! maybe more tho


	9. They're Plotting and Dating?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus plots, Alec plots, and they have their 'date?'

Magnus was always scheming. His friends would attest to that.  _ Scheming,  _ he’d always correct them,  _ not paranoia. _

There was always a backup plan in the works, or a project for whatever instances he’d foresee. Always a lifeline or emergency aid he had set up for himself. 

Living as a second class citizen wherever he went for more than 500 years would do that to a person, he supposes. There was no trick he hadn’t seen, no  _ modus operandi  _ he wasn’t familiar with. One could only be frozen in the winter so many times before he turns warm-blooded.

But every now and again he gets blindsided. 

Like falling deeply in love with a psychopathic vampire who eats manipulated bastards like him for breakfast. That one he was still embarrassed about. A rookie mistake. 

No matter, since it was  _ his _ heart that got crushed, not anyone else’s. He was not one to make mistakes for those he has sworn protection over. 

And this inconvenience with his darling boy was nothing he could not handle. It was, after all, just another symptom of the sickness that will soon be upon them. The pattern was always so repetitive he was almost bored, if only it did not leave such a heart breakingly bloody trail. 

War was predictable like that he noticed. 

The air would tighten with tension and the people would step more cautiously, would look left and right for the one who’d shoot the first bullet. Then the foundations they’ve gotten used to will crack and loosen, and the pent up mistakes will see the light of day. And when it tips from the precipice of peace to the pits of war, something is bound to explode. It always ends with those mistakes blowing up in their faces. 

All he could do was weather the explosion. Make sure that he and his would not be claimed by death. Pick up the pieces of those he couldn’t save and salvage it to something. 

And he’d be damned if he let any more of his loved ones be consumed by this sickness. Not if he could help it. He did see this coming. Had prepared a plan or three for it. 

His decision was set right then, to move his plan into motion. But still, he feared it. Too many things could go wrong, and yet this risk was something they absolutely had to take if they wanted to stand a chance. 

Looking at his phone’s recent messages, his mind wandered off to another possible rookie mistake. 

See, some would say that mixing pleasure with business was a fool’s errand. But they were not Magnus Bane. They haven’t seen the world repeat itself like he did—hadn’t had as many chances for a trial and error as he did. There was a right mix that most never got to execute.

He thumbed over the address he had provided the tantalizing Shadowhunter, and the sweetly short ‘I’ll be there’ that he had replied.  _ I have too much heart in this.  _

Startling at how easily he has let himself be invested in what may come from the two of them, he reminded himself that it was for family. There was a stupid arguement in his head that he was discounting their chances with the presence of his ulterior motives. That he was stupid to think this would ever work out, never mind that he was born in an elitist race that spat at the likes of his, but also a leader who’d never put him in his priorities. 

A wild card like that did no good for his schemes and plans. But when has his heart ever cooperated with him? __

* * *

_ Stupid friends. Stupid independence, so hard to do alone. Stupid parents.  _

Alec couldn’t help the groan that seemingly came from the pits of his soul. He was being childish but hey, he gets to have this pass—rarely but still. 

Here he was holding his phone, contemplating if this is really worth it. 

_ This  _ being the teasing ammo he was about to hand his long-time friend Tal for the favor he was about to ask in exchange for a few more weeks at best of freedom. 

_ Ah hell. I need the time.  _

“Okay, hold it! Before you say anything  _ close _ to ‘I told you so’, Angel help me, I will put this phone down,  _ comprende? _ ”  _ (understood) _

The muffled, barely suppressed laughter on the end of the line just reinforced that he knew his friend a little too well. What followed was the most sarcastic ‘ _ ¿Qué onda?’  _ he has ever heard. And a very obnoxious cackle afterwards.  _ (what’s up?) _

“Alright, shut up. I need your help.”

She sobered up then, hearing the tone of his voice. 

“What do you need?”

“You in Idris.”

“—Okay, that’s a lot,  _ a lot _ —”

“I know! But hear me out, its just to stall my parents—”   
  


“Deal with them?! Alexander Gideon Lightwood, the disrespect you are showing me, what in the world, _ay Dios mio!_ _No puedo, no puedo creer!” (oh my God, I can’t, I can’t believe)_

“Please?” 

A fraction of his exhaustion and resignation might have shown in his small voice just then, and it was maybe a testament to just how much he needed her to do this that he even let it. Weakness rarely was a quality that his  _ nature  _ was suited to. But this was one of his people, his  _ Pride _ that he was talking to.  __

“The things I do for you, mate.”

“You love me.”

“I do, but your parents? In Idris? That is just cruel. And whatever  _ quilombo _ you’ve got going on right now must be worth the dirt on you that I am getting from them, ya little grump.” 

He sighed, knowing that she had hated their home country more than she let on, more than the nonchalant jokes she made it out to be. And that she hated his parents with a burning passion did not help his case. But he didn’t need the two of them breathing down his neck here in New York yet. The official, and totally pointless, appointment ceremony he was about to attend in Idris was the furthest he could push back their arrival to. And that was in a few weeks.  _ Enough to get Jace and Izzy back, have my coffee not-date, and unveil Valentine’s nefarious plots. _

_ And people said he wasn’t optimistic.  _

And so he told her that, to which she responded to him being the most pessimistic person she has ever encountered. Which is false. 

“Oh, and thanks for having my stuff sent here. I missed my Harley.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not your secretary douchebag, next time go get it yourself.”  __

Rolling his eyes at how Tal showed her love, he cut the call after a teasing ‘Love you too!’

_ Well, that's one thing off the list.  _

He looked back to his room, and saw from where he was sitting in his quarter’s office, that Izzy had grown bored of the movie he played on the tablet and was pestering Jace about runes. 

“ _ I bet I know more than you do, Mama says I am learning fast!” _ Izzy goaded, pushing up on the armrest of the chair to get a better look of the Gray Book Jace is studying. 

He barely spared her a glance, answering patiently, “ _ I bet you do, Iz.” _

That was unlikely, but it was nice how Jace was taking the role of a big brother so well. And to admit something akin to defeat, when at that age it was freshly drilled into him that failure wasn’t an option, it warmed Alec’s heart. 

“ _ Hey, how did you both like Underhill yesterday? Good?”  _

“ _ It was fun,”  _ Izzy said, forgetting the runes for her far more interesting brother, “ _ he let us chase the cats and even got us cookies!” _

Her excitement was radiating but a bit subdued as he was carding his fingers through her silky hair and was settling her head on his lap, Jace too looked over at him, putting away the book to answer. “Yeah, he’s okay. But he does know that I can handle the real weapons, right? I’m not some toddler.”

He looked entirely precious as he tried to smother the displeasure on his face, but couldn’t quite erase the pout there. Though, seemingly coming to a realization, he fixed his older brother with an accusing gaze. 

“You’re leaving us with him again, aren’t you?” The sheer betrayal in his pre-pubescent voice was adorable, but had he said that in his usual state it would’ve been scathing. Isabelle, not understanding a lick of English but is still perceptive for her age, scrunched her brows together and looked questioningly at Alec, too. 

“Jace,” he started in a gentle chiding, “ _ I’m not leaving you with him, just asking him to look after the both of you while I go out for a meeting. It isn’t safe for the both of you out there, so I’d feel better if you both were here, protected.” _

_ “But that’s the same thing, big brother,”  _ Izzy wondered aloud, confusion still clear on her face.

Before he could answer, Jace was adding in pointedly, “ _ Yes, it is, Isabelle. And hey, if it's dangerous then why are  _ you  _ going out then, huh?” _

Alec couldn’t help but snort at just how smug Jace looked, thinking he’d done and stopped Alec from going out, and how disapproving Izzy was glaring at him. 

Chucking, he answered them both, “ _ I said it was dangerous for the both of you, not for me. I can kick some ass, don’t you think?”  _

“ _ Sure, you can” _ Izzy said in between giggles, “ _ but so can we! We’ll be your protection!” _

He smiled at her, though internally he was wincing because once this little menace got hold of an idea, she does  _ not  _ let go easily. From the looks of it, Jace thought it was a good idea, too.  _ Oh, great. _ At that, his smile dropped. 

“No,” he drawled out, “ _ don’t latch onto that idea, both of you!”  _ He narrowed his eyes at them for effect. But those two did love a challenge. He sighed as the two made sure that the next thirty minutes of his life would be spent arguing in a manner that would put the most feral lawyers to shame. 

When he finally got his way,  _ after fighting for it tooth and nail, _ he went down to the OpsCenter to make sure things were running smoothly. Making his way from one station to another was almost therapeutic to him, seeing that these were tasks that have been ingrained to him since he was old enough to remember. 

What cruel irony it was that his parents set him up for so much greatness but also feared him being  _ in _ that greatness. How they’ve convinced him that perfection was the only option that he could have, no failures for obvious reasons, but not too much greatness that he would get noticed. Funny, how he was supposed to lead seasoned hunters twice his age and remain superbly average. 

_ Well, that plan went absolutely peachy.  _

Because that plan meant having to hide certain things that Alec could do but still have him do it, hoping that with the precautions they’ve set up, no one would pry too much. 

But no one just takes out demons the way that he does, or respond as well as him to their venom. No one could placate Downworlders like he could, or negotiate with them as successfully as he could. And a startling amount of little quirks that just aren’t explainable. Enough that he was interesting enough to be a topic in their gossip. And then came the tall tales, some of which are very much true. 

And even when he was starting to gain that reputation, his parents didn’t bench him. They wouldn’t waste an ace that was in their control. 

_ He’s a Lightwood, what can we say.  _ His mother loved that excuse. Loved playing into what people whispered about him in awe and fear. Maryse loved playing with fire. Especially when it was him getting burned and not her. 

Shaking dark thoughts from his mind, he signalled one of the handlers that he had assigned an important task to. Fin Lonewright was a bright kid, just a couple of years younger than Alec, but he’d shown strategic skills that more often than not keeps him on the safer side of their jobs. He also had one of the kindest hearts Alec had ever encountered. It made him perfect for what he needed. 

“Fin,” he greeted as they arrived at a secluded part of the center, just behind one of the screens, “got anything for me?”

The sigh that he got was an answer in itself. “Nothing solid enough. If we want to do this right, and we have to, we need more than barely circumstantial evidence. What we got is just that, circumstantial. And nothing that makes sure no one else gets dragged into it.”

“Basically, we can get her imprisoned,  _ if  _ we do it under the table, or legally but with innocents taking the fall with her?” 

“Sorry, boss.” He looked down to the kid, who was ducking his head. 

“No, it’s only a setback, Fin. Keep digging. I have faith in you.” He let his hand grip the younger man’s shoulder, trying to communicate that this was a cause that needed their faith, needed their determination to see it through. 

Kind green eyes looked back up to him and he saw a fire that he was proud to see. After his respectful nod, Alec sent him back to work and onto other tasks that needed his attention. When he turned around he saw Hodge talking to Nick Grayward, another team leader that owed him a few reports. Striding over to them, he tried to smile at the warm greeting Hodge was giving him. 

“Alec, look at you, absolutely in your element.” Hodge had tried to joke. The man had always been iffy to Alec. His instincts never letting him fully relax around him. Though he had never done anything to prove his gut feelings, he had learned to trust that part of himself and he wasn’t one to ignore warnings when placed in front of him. 

“Hodge. If I could borrow Nick here for a moment?” He went for the diplomatic approach, as he usually did when he didn’t  _ like _ the person he was talking to. 

“Oh, well what secrets could you two possibly be conniving at?” 

Hodge looked annoyingly smug at what he thought to be a subtle swipe and Nick looked positively uncomfortable being caught in between the tension that he could sense. 

“Just some changes that would help the Institute’s running capabilities.” And in a show of clear dismissal, he turned his whole body to Nick, “Grayward, if you wil,l” and steered him to his office. Once there, he leaned on his table and waited for the report. 

“Sir, I bear you no good news but it seems that there is a good possibility of the Werewolves and Warlocks to agree. But recent events with the vampires can be a problem. Unless, that situation gets smoothed out, the possibility is slim. As for the Fae, um. Sir, they seem to be unresponsive.”

The abrupt halt in his report had Alec raising a brow. He could see that the usually calm man was nervous and it seems, at a loss. “Unresponsive,” Alec repeated, with a hint of incredulity. 

“I, yes. Um, sir, they prove to be harder to get talking than expected.” He winced a bit, knowing that it was a weak excuse. Truthful, but still an excuse. 

Seeing no lies, Alec just ran a hand over his face.  _ Seems I have to do this myself.  _

Shooing the man, he settled for having to deal with the unpleasantness of talking to his little sister’s ex. 

“Meliorn? Yes, this is Alec Lightwood.”

* * *

  
  


The ambiance of this café he chose was perfect, if Magnus does say so himself. That earned him a mental pat on the back. And look at him, taking romantic steps for himself and a very nice young man, all the while doing his duties.  _ You’ve outdone yourself, Magnus.  _

Looking around the fairly new spot he noted that he enjoyed the aesthetic that this decade was leaning towards. The millennial style was making itself known, in the sleek black lines of the fixtures and scattering of muted solid colors with the stark contrast to the boldly patterned wallpaper and textured plush furniture. 

A spectacular mix of minimalistic elegance and that pop of something that pulled it to the opposite spectrum. A fine meeting of extremes, different but powerful on their own rights, but together simply magnificent. 

_ If that didn’t scream Magnus and Alec, then he might just have to spell it out to the beau.  _

Though the fact that it sat perfectly atop a sizable leyline, was mostly mundane and had a very good seat with an amazing vantage point through the floor to ceiling glass walls for the facade didn’t hurt at all. 

A mad man was after his kind after all, and though he is stricter with those under his care, he can handle himself if it comes to it. He stifled a giggle thinking about those warlocks in his lair who were probably having a rave to distract them from their ‘imprisonment’. And warlock raves were stuff of legends, his most particularly. Maybe he could bring dear Alexander to one sometime, let him loose so to speak. 

But before anymore daydreams formed in his head, his throat suddenly dried. Velicoraptors erupted in his digestive tract and he was certain that Raziel himself could be standing next to him and he wouldn’t notice. 

Because there, at the front of the establishment, through the blessed glass walls, was Alexander in his full glory. Parking his  _ motorcycle. _

_ Dear lord somebody help me. _

When he came to, Alexander was already striding towards him, an easy smile on his face. Remembering his manners, he stood up and was greeted by a well-hidden appreciative glance. To which he returned in kind. 

He didn’t miss the slightly more dressed up shirt that he was sporting. The dark grey v-neck sweater shirt did him wonders, and so did those mid-rise combat boots. Magnus himself did not look too shabby in his deep emerald velvet blazer over his mesh shirt with geometric patterns. And matching it with emerald dress pants seemed a right touch of monochromatic and bold. 

“A motorcycle, Alexander? Aren’t you just absolutely full of surprises.” Magnus said in lieu of a greeting. He made sure to seep it in his  _ enthusiasm _ in seeing him work a purring machine like that. 

Alec’s brain may have short circuited for a few seconds as his brows furrowed slightly, looking confusedly at the handsome man in front of him. A second more and,  _ oh. He liked that.  _ The suggestive tone finally caught up to Alec and blood rushed to his cheeks. He scrambled at how to respond to what seemed like a compliment. 

“I, uh yeah. It’s a Street 750. Just, I just got it here.” He was still blinking at the man, when Magnus flashed him a bright smile and guided him down to the booth he was sitting at. 

“Mhm, I do love a man with a good set of wheels,” he winked. Before any more panic could show on his face Magnus continued, “Oh, where are my manners. Here, this is their menu. It’s a new place so I can’t recommend much. But their coffee is amazing.”

After they’ve ordered, and of course Magnus had to be  _ so _ charming with the middle aged waitress, who left their table laughing to herself, he had to go and charm Alec, too. 

It was all going well, with Alec surprised himself that he was comfortable enough to be ranting about  _ chocolate _ of all things.

“No, but seriously. Anything other than pure dark chocolate to me is a blasphemy.” And he meant it, too.

That got a startled laugh out of Magnus,  _ which he totally did not stare at like a love-struck puppy,  _ but how could anyone not enjoy the sight of it? Magnus was an expressive person, and when he laughed, he laughed with his whole body. He’d throw his head back and his spine would arch, his hands curling around his stomach. And the corners of his eyes would crinkle and when he got all his laughs out, he’d wipe a tear from it. 

“Oh deary me, I have never heard someone be this passionate about desserts for a long while now.” Magnus was chuckling still as he said it. He was just about to defend his passion,  _ since duh, it is chocolate, _ when his phone dinged with a text, an urgent one with the ringtone of it. 

Before he could tell the other man that it was urgent, he was already gesturing with his hand. “Go on, Alexander. It seems important.” He said it with a small smile, so he must not have been that offended. 

He pulled it out and he almost slumped in relief at the sight of it.  _ Fin, you amazing bastard.  _

“Good news, I suppose?” Magnus was arching a perfectly styled brow at him, with his elbows on the table. Just then, he made a startling realization. 

Magnus’ whole body was turned towards him, posture mirroring his, and feet planted slightly open. If he learned anything from his lessons on acting like a human, it was that  _ those  _ meant attraction, and trust. It almost made him growl happily.  _ Almost.  _

He also just then realized how out of the norm he was being. Sitting there, with his magic fighting to caress the warlock’s magic, ranting about something so mundane. As if they’ve done this before a thousand times, like old friends catching up, moving with familiarity that their souls recognize. 

_ Maybe in another life I could have really had this.  _

Seeing that Magnus was still waiting for an answer, he nodded flusteredly. “Yeah, actually. A lead panned out. Makes things easier and better.” 

Magnus stared at him for a beat, debating some thought that had him surrounded by concern, but looked like he decided against it as he shook his head and smiled at him, “That’s great. Running an Institute at your age, I presume, is not a walk in the park, no?” 

“Ha, no. Though, I’ve had enough practice and training. Admittedly, training never covered my siblings turning into toddlers and a new Shadowhunter girl popping out of nowhere.” 

He tipped his head in confusion, because whatever he had said apparently brought back the concern that was plaguing Magnus earlier. “Magnus?” 

“Yes, about your dilemma. Hmm.” He didn’t seem all that confident, which led Alec to not be all that confident as well. 

“You  _ can _ turn them back, can’t you?” 

“Oh yes, yes. I apologize,” gesturing with his hands he continued, “down to business, then. Well, it  _ is _ doable, so fret not, Alexander. My good friend, Catarina, had helped me see it in a new light, per se. And we believe that a few modified healing spells, a nifty bit of anchoring, time magic theorems and calculations, and a few other things can undo the transformation.”

At that, he let himself slump with relief. Things were starting to look up, finally. But one look at Magnus and he knew there was more.  __

Closing his eyes briefly, as if bracing for a blow, he asked. “But?” 

“Oh, no buts. Not with your siblings, that front's all good, darling.”  _ Okay, that the truth, but there’s something else. _

His skepticism must have shown on his face, though all he did was nod and narrow his eyes a bit, because next he knew Magnus was chuckling quietly. 

“No, you’re brother and sister  _ will  _ be fine, Alexander. But much as I wanted to have this time spent for purely selfish reasons,” and he threw in a wink, just to be sure that Alec knew what selfish reasons they were, “I have serious matters of concern to discuss with you.” 

Seeing him transform from Magnus to High Warlock Bane was something of a wonder to him. How he saw strength in both, but where Magnus’ warmth had the prospect of being cocooning and nurturing, High Warlock Bane’s warmth had the risk of burning and consuming. Where Magnus had knowledge and strength as companions, the High Warlock had them as weapons and shields.

Still, he sighed. At least this was better. His illusion of having something that was far too impossible could be held under control better. This made it clear. It was business.  _ Why wouldn’t it be?  _

Nodding his head and donning his responsibilities once more, he said, “I see. This is a secure space?” He asked even though his own magic could sense the very competent wards the warlock had erected around them, and that he had already checked their purpose and was impressed by them. 

“It is, I’ve had silencing wards up since you sat down. I apologize if I hadn’t mentioned it earlier.” If earlier, he would have said it with a far more apologetic look and maybe a teasing remark. This wasn’t a conversation for that. 

“It’s alright. I trust your intentions,” he admitted. A little part of himself was pleased to see that that gentle admission had rocked Magnus a little off his boat. He must have seen that he meant them, which he did. 

Since the other was at a loss for the moment, he continued, “I’ve also wanted to talk to you about serious matters—well to be precise, I wanted to ask for your advice.” His gaze never strayed from Magnus, and he could guess only a few of the many emotions he was trying to keep under control.  _ Still processing, I hope that’s a good sign. _

“I’d hate to overstep, and we might not even be friends yet at this point but I’ve done my research on you, as High Warlock,” which then got him a snort and a dramatic roll of his eyes, “ _ not  _ including the Clave records, because we both know how useless they can be. 

You’ve done a lot of good for your people, Magnus. You have their best interest at heart and you’ve made a hell of a leader.” 

Magnus looked, to anyone who was fooled by his mask, like he had just read the menu of the most boring cafe there is. But Alec could see right through it, his eyes gradually kept widening during his little speech, his throat was closing up a bit, and he was overwhelmed. By what he couldn’t say, good things though, he supposes. After a few seconds to mull over what he had said, he looked back at Alec and in his eyes, it was like something had settled. 

“As I said,  _ absolutely  _ full of surprises.” The smile he got was blinding, made his heart skip a beat, and was decidedly a Magnus smile, not one of the High Warlock. 

“But,” he said, cutting through anymore enamored thoughts he was having, “may I ask one thing for today?” 

He looked so sinfully hopeful, those round eyes of his, and how could he possibly say no? He settled for a mere nod, asking him to continue.

“Let us have this conversation as  _ us _ , Alexander. Just you and me. Not as the Institute’s Head and the High Warlock. Later we can be our titles, for now let us be us.” 

_ Couldn’t say no before, won’t start now, I guess. _

“I’d love that, Magnus.” 

Right as the words left his mouth, both of them shifted. Back to Magnus and Alexander it is.

“So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Luckily Alec was way more forgiving when it came to diplomacy and politics than Head of the Institute Alec. Something he was more proud of since it got another laugh out of Magnus.

“Straight to the point, I see. Well, that does seem easier. Alright. I’d like your support in the change in leadership in the Vampire Clan.” 

Magnus thought this date-not-date-is-it-a-date-really was going well. They took to each other’s company famously and the man only got annoyingly more perfect since their last meeting. Once he let his guard down, which wasn’t that long, he showed this amazingly and mundanely human side that only endeared Magnus even more. 

And now, here they were. Having laid out his piece, hoping that he’d be backed in this plight. Hoping that he read the Shadowhunter right. After a fraction of a second’s silence, he rushed to continue his statement.

“I, I’ve been speaking with other leaders, and a friend of mine in the Clan. What their leader did was her actions alone. It endangers them and has put them at risk for one too many times. And we think—”

He tapered off. Because Alexander was sat there,  _ laughing.  _

“Um, yeah, hi. Am I missing something here?” 

He reached for his coffee, trying to get his laughter in control and almost choking himself in the process. By the time he had settled and was only mildly smiling, Magnus had leaned back, crossed his arms and was trying to look affronted. To which he failed. How could he, when something he had said caused such blatant shows of joy. 

"Magnus," he paused,  _ for dramatic purposes, he's really perfect, damn him,  _ "you're talking about Camille Belcourt, yes?" 

"Mhm, that is correct." 

That only made him grin wider,  _ the little devil. _

"Well, this is going to be awkward.

That's exactly what  _ I  _ was going to talk to  _ you _ about. You had to go and out do me, didn't you?"

His mouth was hanging open, he was sure of it. But his mind was currently processing something more confounding that it paid that little fact no heed. 

After moments of careful thought, he eloquently said, “Wait, what?!”

He watched Alexander tip his head back, biting his lip, “We’re literally here for the same reason, Magnus.” 

“And, would you care to tell me why  _ you _ would like her gone? Have you even met her yet?”  _ Because if you have met her, I won’t blame you for wanting her gone so bad.  _

“I told you, I’ve done my research. And contrary to popular belief of anyone who doesn’t live in the Institute, I spend some time here in New York, too. Anyways, there was more I wanted to go over with you—”

His phone rings again, the ringtone for an emergency call.

_ Caller ID: Clary Fray _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, a short one. I apologize, bad brain month. Plans are set and plots are thickening. Thanks for all the kind words and support. I love you alllll


	10. They Work Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The leaders make their move, Clary breaks down and makes tea, and some secrets are known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, warnings for some gore at the start there, it's not too detailed but it's sorta there so yeah.  
> also did y'all think the Malec date was over? he he he

The air was tangy with the metallic smell of blood. It all looked the same, smelled the same, and littered the wood floors the same. Valentine really couldn’t care less. Though he supposes he should care more. 

“You’re really testing my patience here, you know,” he said conversationally. His hands were in his pocket, the left one gripping around the necklace he had gotten off of Jocelyn. The bright purple stone was a mystery to him, and it might just be one of her mundane ‘hippie’ stones that held no meaning whatsoever to her, but he feels the urge to have something of hers when he goes away. 

Going back into the task at hand, he stared at one of the tiny creatures writhing on the medical table. Its pasty gray skin had dark purple and blue lines creeping all around, it was fascinating how the edges seemed to flow and ebb. When he looked at the morgue cabinets on the wall, one of them was pulled out containing a similar looking body, though it seemed to be more dead that this one near him. The dead one’s lines weren’t moving anymore, and without that movement it just looked like precise lines of bruises. 

He’d feel sympathy for them, but they were monsters and he was no weak man when it came to monsters. 

“As I keep telling you, the blood _won’t_ mix! It battles each other, repels and—just look, I have the samples here. Take a look for yourself.” 

Iris Rouse was not one to give up quickly. Not when so much was on the line. Her _baby_ was on the line. But the damned demons just won’t cooperate. 

She beckoned him to one of the tables littered with samples that she had collected. On the microscope was a sample of the subject that she had previously been examining. When he peered into the device, she heard him hum. She took that as a sign to explain. 

“At first glance they seem to be no different than one another. Same coloring, consistency, hell, even on mundane equipment, same properties. The only thing mundane equipment _can_ see is that pronounced meeting point of the two substances, the churning motions and the purple hues. But,” and she changed the lens and the glass underneath the stage clip, “these have magical properties, it’ll show you what the angelic parts are doing. It’s _attacking_ the demonic parts.

I-I can’t keep the angelic parts _and_ the potency you want in the demonic blood.”

“But that’s not what I wanted, isn’t it?” He turned sharply to her, wild enraged eyes trained solely to her and she felt a shiver in her spine. 

“I have given you _all_ you could ever need, warlock. You’ve got pure angel blood, pure demon blood and disease, and all the subjects at your disposal! You think you were actually doing something with that whore house you’ve been running? Warlocks are a dime a dozen! But this—this will be spectacular! Don’t you see? 

A warrior of the Angels, with _all_ the capabilities of the monsters it needs to rid of… truly remarkable.” 

Iris had seen mad men before, driven by some desire and ambition. She knew how dangerous they were, and to a degree, she could understand them. She _was_ what some would call morally grey, or so she’d say. But she knew it was too much. And she was powerless against it. 

She swallowed and nodded, _what else can I do?_

* * *

“Again, it’s alright to answer it. It looks way more important than last time.” 

And Magnus meant it. He might have proposed this outing for personal reasons, _i.e: his crush and political alliances,_ but he understood that he was a man of many responsibilities. He knew how it was, first hand. And well, surprising though he may be, Alexander was still a Nephilim. And Nephilim always chose the world. 

He was again taken aback when he was _informed_ that the caller was Clarissa. Not only because it was Clarissa calling, but also for the fact that he was included. Like he was a close friend privy to the details of his work life. He smothered the part of him that enjoyed that a bit too much though. 

“Fray? What’s the emergency?” His tone was calm and even, but he must have been expecting something serious with the way he poised himself. What followed was the most contained-angered sigh he had ever witnessed. And truly, he hadn’t even meant to eavesdrop, but what with Alexander answering the call right in front of him and the bubble of secured wards must have bounced the sound back because he heard her answer clearly. 

_“Alec, I need to tell you something! I had a dream!”_

Oh, how the tables have turned because here he was, laughing his glittery ass off with Alec progressively turning more annoyed by the moment. He was yet to answer but his eyes were closed, jaw working, and his pointer finger was steadily and forcefully drumming on the table. He opened his eyes again, when he was _some_ sort of calmed, saw Magnus giggling like a schoolgirl and rolled his eyes. Magnus might’ve seen the corner of his lips turn up but they were gone in a flash. 

“Say that again, _slowly_ , and tell me how this is an emergency.” And Magnus was back to cackling. 

_Now that is a man resisting the urge to bang his head on the table. Truly too adorable for his sake._

_“No, I’m serious Alec! I think I have a lead. I know you think I’m some naive kid way over her head,”_ she paused, “ _Okay, I may be that kid, but I’m sure of this. Please listen?”_

Magnus smiled fondly at that, his mind’s eye showing him a little Clarissa Fairchild, too stubborn for her own good and righteous to a fault. She was sheltered, of course, but Magnus wagers that even the darkest challenges of the world could not put out the fire in that little one. She had a strong Shadowhunter somewhere within her, guiding her instincts and it wouldn’t be far-fetched for that instinct to get something right. She just had to channel it out better. 

_And she should channel that Shadowhunter better, preferably not at the sake of poor Alexander._

Alexander who just sighed in reluctant understanding and said, “Fine, make it quick, little red.” 

_“Thank you! Okay so, I um, I fell asleep and then I got this memory like, as a dream, when my Mom would open a box and cry when she thought I was asleep. I never thought much about it and this is going to sound weird but I don’t know how else to say it, but I think Dot sent me that. As a message.”_

_Dorothea. It can’t be, couldn’t it? She was …_

His laughter was gone, his focus suddenly somewhere else. There were some panting noises from the phone, as she held her silence, waiting for Alexander’s response. 

“And Dot is?” 

_“Dot was the one I told you that portalled me out, and, and she hasn’t been anywhere since. I couldn’t get a hold of her. But she has, she’s been with my mom and I since I was little. And I felt her, Alec. In my dream. Like she was telling me something”_

He could hear the tremble in her voice and her quiet sniffling, and had he not been in a public place, he thinks he could burst into tears as well. Because that meant that his old friend was still out there, _alive._ Then, wretched realization dawned on him. He felt sick to his core. 

_And I’ve left her to her own devices, I gave up on her._

“And this box? Where is it?” 

_“In our apartment, if you let me out I can look for it, I’m sure it’s safe now—”_

“Absolutely not, I’ll be back soon and we’ll discuss this in person.” His firm tone left no room for argument, but little miss Fray was nothing if not stubborn. 

_“But I can do this!,”_ surprised by the sudden outburst, the Shadowhunter could only furrow his brows further, “ _I’m not useless, Alec! I might be useless to Simon right now but this is something I can do. Let me do it Alec, please.”_

_Right yes, there was Simon, too. She doesn’t have the assurances that I’ve gotten from Raphael._

“Clary,” his tone was softer now, authoritative but much more paternal, “you aren’t useless. I already have people trying to save your friend, I’ll tell you about it later. And for the record, I wasn’t saying you couldn’t do it. I’m saying that you aren’t doing it alone. Clear?” 

_“I, yes. Okay. I’ll wait for you here, Alec. I promise.”_

Cutting the call, his stiff pose lessened a fraction, but the exasperation was left marring his beautiful face. How Magnus wishes that the man in front of him was a big enough distraction, to keep his mind from the dark thoughts creeping in. But hasn’t he been irresponsible enough? To leave one of his own out there, in distress, because a few tracking spells and castings have come up negative. He should have—

“Magnus?” Worry was apparent in Alexander’s voice, his eyes searching his face, probably sensing the turn of his moods. He had enough on his plate to add Magnus’ woes as well, so he opted for the usual mask and donned it with a shaking resolve. 

“All good with Clarissa? How has Biscuit been?” He hoped his cheery tone didn’t betray him. 

Maybe it did, since all the other man did was narrow his eyes at Magnus, and he had the urge to squirm. He was not used to being seen through his thick facades, it was just a feat that hasn’t been done for a couple centuries now. 

“You know this Dot, don’t you?” He swallowed, though there was no accusation in his voice, just an observation, that unfortunately hit quite the spot. 

He looked away, feeling thoroughly exposed, “An old friend yes, I just, I thought …” He couldn’t even finish, though he wanted to. Speaking to Alexander was dangerously too easy, things slipped out easily. But it felt right. 

“I thought that either she was gone, since I couldn’t feel her magic anymore, or stupidly, I hoped she had gotten to safety without my knowledge.” He scoffed at his own naivety, his own foolishness. 

Alec was a man of strong self control. That moment was a testament to it, because seeing Magnus like that, blaming himself for failing his people, when Alec knew he’d done so much already, made him want to hold him tight and never let go. It was a dangerous urge, and so he did what he did most and deflected. 

“I’m sure we can find out more once we talk to Fray, I’ll make sure to reach you if any information about her comes up.” 

Detached as his answer was, he hoped it soothed the warlock enough for now. It must’ve, since Magnus’ eyes lost the faraway look it had. 

“I believe we were speaking of overthrowing the coven’s leadership?” 

That was certainly an important conversation. One that fortunately, got Magnus’ mind off of darker things. 

“Ah, yes. And how you’ve apparently had the same thoughts? Do explain yourself, Alexander ” His playful, but serious, tone was back. Alec counted that as a win. 

“Hm, what you said earlier about her actions. It hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Institute. But … _past management_ has not seen the import of it, but I do. Especially now that she’s kidnapped a mundane, trying to bargain it for the Mortal Cup. Which she thinks Clary has. But none of that is news to you, isn’t it?” _See, he could be coy, too._

Magnus only smirked, though he could see genuine amusement in his eyes. “What can I say? An old man like me always has an ear in the grapevine, all those whispers,” a wink again before continuing, “what’s news to me, is that _you_ know more than you let on.”

“It’s only logical to know about the things you get yourself into.” He said with a shrug. 

This exchange was one he’d honed from conversations with ruthless politicians, but he has never quite enjoyed it like this. 

“Wise choice. Any more surprises you’ve got for me, darling?” 

He tried not to blush at the casual endearments and soldiered on. 

“Oh, yes. But again, you seem to have outdone me with this, too. Already ahead of me.” 

“Well, I’m certainly curious now, go on.” And he looked it, too. He pushed forward, their knees brushing under the table, and his beautiful rings on display as he leaned his chin on his hands. 

“I’ve been trying to organize a Downworld Cabinet.” He let that sentence simmer, watching Magnus carefully, reaching out his magic for the tells that he can’t use his eyes for. 

What he saw were all good things he hoped. A choked breath from surprise, his smell of confusion, the warlock’s magic jumping alert, probing and calculating him. He brushed aside the pleasure he felt when their magics met and hoped the warlock didn’t feel that. 

“Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming.” The disbelief was clear, and the hope.

“You’re not. I’ve had a team organizing and getting the factions together, Luke’s been the only sure one yet and hopefully you. I also have a meeting with Meliorn later. And when there’s enough of the leader’s on board, I was planning on asking for _your_ support in the Vampire situation. A joint rescue, with all of us working together? It could do so much for the Shadow World.”

“Alexander, that’s… that’s amazing.”

“And, I’ve heard you say earlier that you’ve had contact with them as well?”

“Yes, well, I was going to use that bit to convince you to aid us, but…” 

“But I was ahead of you?” 

The smile he got was blinding. Alec thought that this was a win, too. The genuine surprise and awe he could see almost made him preen. Magnus took a few moments to shake his head, deciding what best to say. When he looked back to Alec, he could see fiery determination. His smile was sharp and challenging, akin to how Jace would grin before a battle. 

“A joint rescue, you say?” 

* * *

Clary was going insane. This was her finally losing her mind, after weeks of keeping it all together. 

Jace and Izzy were children because of her, Simon was gone because of her, her Mom still wasn’t found because of her, and on top of all that she had managed to hurt Luke, too. She hadn’t even let herself think about the revelation of who her father was. 

She hugged herself tighter, refusing to stop her pacing, afraid that her demons might get to her if she stopped even for a moment. Hadn’t they already? In her sleep, one that was a product of running herself ragged in researching and training, they had gotten to her. 

When she wretched herself awake, she was sore and sweaty, and there was this haunted feeling inside her, remnants of what she felt in her dream. It was Dot and no one could tell her otherwise. The shower was only effective for her physical state, but her mind was still a mess. 

Not for the first time, she wished Luke was still here. She wished she could’ve gone with him. Even if just to apologize, more than she already had. She knew the hurt she’d given him needed more than a few muttered apologies in a heated conversation. 

She hadn’t even told her that she didn’t mean any of it. That she trusted him. She hated that when she tells him it was because she was being stupid and hurt, he would forgive her and understand. She didn’t deserve that. Not after all he’d done for her. 

Simon didn’t deserve to be kidnapped, too. She should’ve listened. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? She should have listened. To Simon. To Luke. To Alec. Hell, to her mother way before all of this. If only she had … 

Then, what? What would her mother have told her anyways? Would she take her to Magnus again, reboot her brain so that she’d be the pliant, clueless little girl everyone thought her to be? 

Pulling her hair out of frustration, she stopped her pacing. Tears were welling in her eyes again, which surprised her. How much more could she cry in one day? 

A knock on her door had her ripping it open, it was Roel, the guard placed on her door who she asked to update her when Alec came back. “He’s here?” she asked before he even got a word out. 

“Yes, but he’s with Izzy and Jace, they’re both upset . Maybe let them..”

Whatever he was going to say next, she didn’t hear. She was already racing to his office, her mind zeroing on her intent. She remembered that she should at least knock this time around and only entered when she heard his smooth voice give her the go. 

Roel was right, though. The kids were clearly upset. She’d expected Alec to be at his desk, catching up on the boring parts of Shadowhunter-ing, but he was in front of the glass doors looking out the balcony. With an armful of a wailing Izzy. The little girl was heaving and sobbing, clutching Alec’s shirt. A look around the room revealed Jace gloomily sitting on the couch, arms crossed and pout prominent. 

“Um, hi?” 

Izzy gave her sobs a rest, just one look with her wet doe eyes, then back to crying her whole body out. Alec was rocking her on his hip, rubbing a hand on her back soothingly. He stopped the whispers and looked at her, “Nightmares.” 

“Oh,” that made sense, they grew up knowing all of the stuff of nightmares were real, it was logical that they’d have some fear of it when they were young. Heck, she had those nightmares now that she did know. 

And maybe she always had known, because she remembers a phase in her childhood plagued with nightmares, too. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said racing out again, this time to the kitchens. She had made fast, though reluctant, friends with the people assigned there, but her favorite was Trevor. When she got all the ingredients, with only a little pleading on her side, she made quick work of her mother’s favorite concoction when she woke up in fits of screams. 

When she got back to Alec’s office, Izzy and Jace were no better. 

“Here, have them drink this,” handing out the mugs, one on the table in front of Jace and the other to Alec’s outstretched hand. 

He gave it a suspicious sniff, and looked at it intensely before deeming it safe, but not before he made sure, “What is this?” 

“I used to have nightmares as a kid, too. My mom would make the best blend of tea and some spices, but those are trade secrets. It’s always worked for me, so it should help them, at the least.” 

He carefully explained it to the crying girl, who at first refused it but then Alec spoke more, Izzy looked to her, and reluctantly agreed. She may not understand a lick of Latin, but she knew guilt tripping when she saw it. She made sure to look extra happy as Izzy took her first sips. Both kids have decided they would tolerate it, she guessed, since Alec was allowed to let the girl down next to Jace, who looked happy with the cuddling. 

“Thank you. She wouldn’t stop crying,” and poor Alec looked like it broke his heart that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

“I’m glad I could help. At least someone got some use out of me,” the last part she muttered under her breath, but Alec’s hearing must’ve been better than she thought because his face instantly turned into that disapproving slash concerned face that she’s seen Luke give to rookies before. When he gestured that they talk out on the balcony, she followed, knowing that a lecture was in store for her. 

“Look Alec,—”

“Calm down, I’m not giving you a lecture.” And that might have just been the most fond he had been with her. She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“How are you?” 

That one question, innocent as it was, almost had her breaking down right then and there. But her mother raised her stronger than this. Though she felt the wetness in her eyes, she tried to blink them away, looking out to the city and gathered all her strength. 

“I’m okay, but that’s not what—”

He was hugging her. 

This was Alec hugging her, wasn’t it? _Shit, am I going to die? Oh God, is Simon? Is Mom?_

“Breathe, little red, breathe. You’re alright.” 

Suddenly, her body had renewed its reserve of tears and was adamant on emptying them. Alec was tall and broad, his chest was so warm and his arms were around her. No one would call her weak, no one could see her. Her demons couldn’t get to her here. It felt like one of Luke’s hugs, but here, there was no disappointment, no hurt. She didn’t know Alec, and Alec didn’t know her. It was easier to break down in front of this stranger than to the family that had betrayed her or she’d betrayed. 

The dam broke and all of it just rushed out. 

In the back of her head she could hear a voice that just won’t stop, _it’s not fair, it's’ not fair, they’re out there suffering, you have no right seeking comfort, it’s not fair._

It only spurs her onto sobs. Maybe Izzy was onto something, just wailing in Alec’s arms wasn’t such a bad idea. 

She doesn’t know how long they stood there, her a sobbing mess, and Alec giving her respite from the world. 

When her hiccups lessened, and her head hurt from the crying, her chest felt lighter than it had since the few weeks that she was thrown into this world. She stepped back and was immediately guilty of the wet marks she’d left on Alec’s nice shirt. 

Come to think of it, he looked way more dressed up than usual. But there were other things that needed their attention. 

“So, this lead,” she started, now feeling uncomfortable in the Shadowhunter’s heavy gaze, “um, I think that we can use that box, to track my mom somehow.”

She was grateful that he didn’t seem to mind her abrupt change of subject. He must’ve seen how she didn’t want to, or couldn’t, talk about it right now. 

“I know Jace did it before, Simon told me and if some people come with me, I’m sure it’ll still be at mom’s hiding place.” 

The determination was back on her voice, empowering the cracks and hoarseness she felt from crying. 

“Okay, I’ll organize a team out to go with you. But,” he said sharply, cutting off the cheers that would’ve gone out her mouth. _He was agreeing with me, let me celebrate it._

“About Simon’s rescue—”

“You’re planning it already? I’m coming with you, I thought you said you were just looking into it, I didn’t realize—”

“You have this annoying habit of getting ahead of people, I've noticed.” His deadpan was enough to shut her up, even ducking her head away from his unimpressed face.

“As I was saying, after a conference with some people, which hopefully turns out successful, we’ll have another team ready to take some action.” 

Rage bubbled up inside her again. This was her best friend he was talking about, reporting it like it was some boringly mundane procedure. Like it was just another Tuesday for him. 

“ _After_ a conference? Alec, his life is on the line! He’s with _monsters!_ ” 

Her rage ebbed a little when she saw his face darken, “Watch how you speak, Fray. Not even a month as a Shadowhunter and you’re beginning to sound just like some of Valentine’s supremacists.”

She took a step back at that. Before she could stutter out an apology, he was already turning from her. His voice is even more measured and detached now. 

“Thank you for the tea, someone will fetch you from your quarters when you move out for that box.”

Stuttering out a feeble ‘okay’, she left the office and hurried back to her room. 

* * *

  
  


Meliorn’s armor was dented. 

He loathed to be impressed with Camille’s newly turned lackeys, but it _was_ mithril. That took some serious strength. _Ah, the disillusions of youth._

Making sure that the area was clear, he moved on to where his other companions for tonight are. 

And what a group they made. He could see the High Warlock’s blood red magic binding some of the misguided fledgelings, the pack Alpha issuing orders for his wolves to have another thorough search around the building, and one newly appointed Clan Leader talking to a most peculiar Institute Head. He found that he couldn’t fault them for talking to him, since he himself was across from him at his office earlier that night, his bafflement only increasing by the time they parted ways. 

_From the moment that Alec Lightwood called him, Meliorn was already filled with dread._

_He might not look the part of a struck down and abused Downworlder, he blamed that on being a Seelie knight, but he still had reservations about the Nephilim. One would think that them sharing some aspects of blood would spark some kinship among their races, all it did was make them more wary of one another. It might also have something to do with the fact that the Children of the Angels feared the Fae much as the Fae feared them. This was what made their relations closer to a cold war compared to the outright wars the Nephilim had with other Downworlders._

_A part of him was personally dreading the meeting, seeing that he was an … acquaintance of said Lightwood’s sister. While acquaintance might be a loose word to define what he shared with the young lady, he was not crude enough as to call it what the mundanes would, friends with benefits. How vapid._

_Not to mention how he had introduced himself as Alec Lightwood, not Head of the Institute, or Representative of the Clave, Harbinger of Suffering. The latter ones were improbable but it meant all the same to him. He was not flexing his titles, much unusual for his kind and position. Thus the personal dread._

_The call was as vague as a Pixie trying to sell bogus wares that he wondered if that Shadowhunter was secretly a Fae himself. Still, he was not made a knight of his Queen’s court for nothing, so he opted to courageously meet with him. In his base no less._

_But just as he was preparing himself for the imposing sight of the New York Institute when a bud suddenly bloomed from the vines near the archway outside his cottage. From the pure white flower that just opened, a butterfly flew out and onto his shoulder. A message from the Queen._

_Personal dread now forgotten, he set out with much more confidence and information that he had just moments ago. He left, but not before grabbing one of his most prized friends._

_Knocking at the Institute doors, he was welcomed and immediately escorted, they were as surprised at what he was carrying as the knight was with how fair they were treating him. As if there were orders to be on good behaviour. He made sure he didn’t look too smug at knowing that his Queen may perhaps be more right than she thought._

_When he went into the Head’s office, he found the man in the middle of putting away cups, with the most calming tea blends Meliorn had smelt. Yet he was not distracted enough to miss the look of utter confusion on the man’s face._

_“Is that a bonsai tree?” He blurted out, before seemingly remembering himself and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, you caught me off-guard. Meliorn, hello. I’m Alec Lightwood.”_

_His hand automatically went up for a shake but stopped when he remembered that the Seelie was indeed holding a bonsai tree in a rectangular pot._

_“No apologies needed, my friend. It is a bit unusual. But this is a friend of mine, please, accept it as a gift from my Queen and I.”_

_He held out the pot and waited for his reaction. He expected wariness, distrust, and a good deal of suspicion. He also expected to be surprised. This was no normal man in front of him._

_“Oh, I didn’t expect you to bring a gift. But thank you, I accept,” he said smiling, as he took it and placed it on a shelf along the walls, near the balcony, “I’ll try and take good care of it.”_

_Meliorn was surprised, or maybe not so much, with the sincerity from his words. He was also surprised at how subtle the other man’s magic was. The quick scan he did, seconds before accepting, would be easy to miss if he had not been given a heads up._

_“Why don’t we sit? I’m sure you noticed I was being somewhat vague in our call, but these are sensitive matters.”_

_It was stupid, how utterly proud Meliorn already was of this man. He exuded a sense of power and control that was most admired in their culture. And he was doing it without active thought of doing so._

_“Hm, yes, I do understand. But before we move forward there are some things that my Queen would like you to be aware of.”_

_Tilting his head, he urged Meliorn forward, “Oh?”_

_“Firstly, we agree.” The only reaction he got was an unwavering stare, clearly piercing and searching, but the Fae had nothing to hide. Still he made to explain himself. “This … partnership, let’s call it, that you are about to instigate with my Queen’s court. I’ve been tasked to tell you that we agree to it though our participation might not be as active._

_You have our support, I am pleased to say.”_

_Once more he was impressed, for all he got was, “How funny, I haven’t even made the offer.” Levelled with an unimpressed look. Clearly, he was not enjoying having Meliorn have this much information._

_Meliorn only smiled, sensing only good things from this partnership and this man._

_“The Queen is quick that way. And the last thing, dear friend._

_Though, I do not know the details and I may not be able to answer your questions, but I’ve been told to say; Your secret is safe with us, among your friends.”_

Shouting brought Meliorn’s mind back to the present. He sensed no more danger but there was tension rising between the Vampires and the Werewolves farther in the hotel. 

Though the knight did not care much for the undead residents of the Dumort, he had to admit that it was in better hands now. As proven by the fact that the new Clan Leader, Raphael Santiago, was effectively holding back a raging vamp. “What do you mean, she escaped?! I thought you dogs were supposed to secure the area around!” 

And even with a steadily bleeding wound in his left shoulder and bicep, Luke's right hand shot up, intercepting a growling she-wolf as she snarled back, “Well she slipped through _your_ fangs, didn’t she, you leech!” 

“The mundane is dead.” 

Magnus’ deep voice was what quieted down the people. “Clary Fray’s friend, the mundane. Camille got to him before she fled.” 

His face was stony and unmoving, Meliorn could see the grief at another life lost in his eyes. And if it were possible, he could see that Raphael’s heart stopped beating, too. But it was a heart that hadn’t pumped for a few centuries now, for the vampire it only felt like it stopped all over again. 

Outside, he could hear a light drizzling of rain. As though _someone_ was feeling the blow of the mundane’s death and couldn’t hold the emotions in. He looked sharply to Alec, head bowed, then inhaling sharply and then the rain outside weakened a bit before continuing on. 

Resolve clear on his face, he made the decision himself and turned to address Raphael. “But he’s not gone, is he? He’s turning.” 

The latter clenched his jaw, but nodded. He looked like he knew what he had to do. 

  
  


* * *

The sun was almost peeking into his room when Alec was just about ready to get some sleep in, but of course it was the perfect time for a call. 

Keeping in a string of colorful curses, he answered the phone, only because it was Tal, and he owed her at the moment. 

_“Don’t ever say, I don’t warn you about big stuff coming up ever again. And also shut up, sit your ass down, because you might faint.”_

Rolling his eyes at her, he did what she said, if only to get it over with. 

_“You sitting now? If not, you’re about to. So, I know you got a lot going on, but um. You’re about to get married.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I humbly offer this to you, and yes, I did skip the fight scene as I am a coward and not yet ready for that. Also, I love surprises, if you guys hadn't seen. Anyways, I highly encourage feedback, it gives me life. Thank you so much.  
> j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶p̶u̶t̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶,̶ ̶i̶ ̶w̶r̶o̶t̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶i̶'̶m̶ ̶g̶l̶a̶d̶ ̶y̶'̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶ ̶h̶i̶h̶i̶
> 
> Next chapter features: Malec baking! Yay!


	11. They Adjust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She finds out stuff, they cope and they adjust, they bake and have peace. And then they don't.

Something was up. 

Scratch that, a lot of things were up. But this was new. 

Something new was up with Alec, and it definitely had something to do with the mission they went out for. Whatever mysterious mission that they had kept her out of the loop of, something happened. 

Clary watched as he moved in the space of his office heavily, like there was a weighted darkness following him around. There was a cold detachment to his voice but it wasn’t directed at her. His mind was obviously somewhere else. Where to, she couldn’t say. It was always hard to say with Alec, he had a million little things going on. 

She was brought out of her staring when he handed her a phone. Her brows shot up in question. 

“It's a standard Clave issue. Keep it on you at all times, especially when you’re out in the field. Emergency notifications pop up there and you have a direct line to the Institute, either for back-up, information, status updates, or anything important.”

She accepted it with a gratitude blooming in her chest, it felt like he was giving her a Shadowhunter badge and she was eager to please. 

“Thank you again, for letting me out on this mission. Uh, Nick said that he saw my few training sessions and that they were okay.” 

He stared at her for a second, maybe thinking if her hopeful confidence was there wrongfully. Her determination must’ve shown on her face enough, he looked away and picked up his tablet, bringing up the file on this mission. 

“Just make sure to follow what Nick says, he’s your Op Leader and he has orders to send you back here the moment that he feels you aren’t working with the team, clear?” 

Something was definitely up as he repeated a bunch of procedural stuff that she was sure was more of Underhill’s job than Alec’s. She would know, she had to sit through hours of his Safety and Security Orientation, something that he had apparently been proud of and even showed her presentations on decreased mission injuries, pie charts and everything. 

“You know, you’d give Underhill’s orientation skills a run for his money,” she started conversationally. She liked to think she was a cheery person and could do a thing or two about his souring mood. But she forgot to consider that this was  _ Alec _ , and he took brooding to a new, distinctly him level. 

He leveled her with a look that said both ‘ _ Don’t push your luck’  _ and  _ ‘There is a deep darkness within me’ _ . Okay well the second one may be a tad dramatic but he just gave off too much Batman vibes that she figured it would fit. 

One last sigh from him and he was sending her off to the Weapon’s Room with the rest of the team, but before she could close the door he had one last reminder. 

“Play nice, alright? Your team’s diverse tonight and I don’t want to find out that trouble came from you.” 

Now properly threatened, she all but ran to meet her team. She had a vague idea of the Shadowhunters that would be joining their little team of seven tonight. Of course there was Nick, who she likes to call one of Alec’s disciples, leading them. He’s passing out runed weapons to Fin, also Alec’s disciple, and to Clary once she’s near enough. Maia, Luke’s second in command, who probably is aware about her rocky situation with Luke and tries to restrain her glaring to a minimum. She’s with another wolf that Clary doesn’t recognize but he seems nice enough to everybody and suddenly she’s reminded of Simon. She hastily looks away to Lily Chen, a vamp that she assumes holds ranks in the coven quietly talking with another pale woman. 

They all huddle when Nick calls their attention and everyone nods to the plan. Clary confirms for the nth time that she  _ can _ find the box once they’re there. And Nick looks around their team, and if she didn’t know better, she’d say it was pensive awe in his face. Like they were doing something monumental instead of a retrieval operation. It left a peculiar taste in her mouth, like she was missing something. There was this underlying stirring in the Institute, like the people in it are moved off kilter by something and she had just waved it off when she noticed last night, too immersed in what Alec’s secret mission could be. 

She gets the same feeling on their way out, when they leave a trail of hushed whispers and curious looks. 

They were two blocks from the Institute when the question stumbled out of her. “So, what was that all about?”

Nick immediately moved narrowed eyes towards her, “What was what, Fairchild?”

“Fray,” she corrected uselessly, “and  _ that _ , as in those weird looks we were getting? I get it that I’m the new girl but I’ve been there more than a week, right? I couldn’t be that interesting.” 

She heard Maia mutter something like  _ ‘self-centered brat’  _ under her breath but Nick was already answering her with a troubled sigh, “They’re just … not used to this. Our team, I mean.” 

“What he means is, Shadowhunters are  _ balking _ at the thought of our kind working with theirs,” Lily all but sneered in her usual tone of straight up aggressiveness. In the corner of her eye, Clary could see Maia’s companion, Nate, she heard her call him, frown at that, but said nothing. 

Lily’s companion on the other hand, placed a hand on her forearm, almost to restrain her, but looked at Clary and the Shadowhunters with a raised brow, smug agreement on her face. 

But there was no aggressiveness or anger in Fin's voice when he answered, only hopeful determination, like it was some mantra that he’s already convinced himself of. 

“But we’re going to change that. We  _ are _ changing that.” 

A quiet ‘oh’ was all she could respond with, and she fought the falter in her steps. The gravity of their mission together somehow being tangible to her now. Like she was beginning to grasp the enormity of it. 

What she thought was just superficial dislike might be something more. And maybe what she thought were her people keeping to themselves was more than that. 

Now that she was looking though, she could see it in the way everybody stood, the way they trudged forward. Nick and Fin soldiered on at the front, proud and pioneering, like the steps they were taking haven’t been taken before. Suddenly her little joke of them being Alec’s disciples worked way too well. 

Maia and Nate were talking off on her left flank. Maia was giving deadpans and fond rolls of her eyes while Nate tried to cheer her up and loop her in his college life. It was sweet and at glance, seemed like a couple of friends out on a stroll. If not for the way that Maia kept glancing warily to the others, keeping her cautious distance as Nate pretended not to be aware of it. 

Lily and her still unintroduced colleague were the farthest from Clary and the group, on her right, they matched the rest’s pace, walking shoulder to shoulder and not trying that hard to disguise the vigilance—vigilance to the world and to them. 

Maybe what she thought to be just a dislike among the factions of the Shadow World were more than she thought, ran deeper than she was aware of. And maybe them being here together now wasn’t something unusual, but just isn’t  _ done.  _

Still she couldn’t help but smile,  _ they might not want to touch each other with a ten-foot pole, but we’re all still her within ten-feet of each other. That counts for something.  _

They reach their run down studio apartment before she could arrive at any more societal realizations. 

It looks different. That was her first thought. Without the incessant beat of rain and adrenaline, the place just looks flat. Even before the tragedy that was her birthday, it always had this quirk to it—this personality. The brick walls are carved in the shapes of her memories, the hallways molded to their routine, new items always popping out for attention. It was always alive, and Dot and her mother would be the most exquisite life forms in it. And that night, it had still reached out to her. But it was sharp-edged and ragged, clawing at her for help, for the abuse that it had gone through. Still then, Dot and her mother were the ones that pierced her the most. Or rather, their absence. 

But now it was all gone and all that was left was blunt stumps of what used to be there. The burnt wood looks monotonous and the broken furniture all around was insipid to her eyes.

She wondered idly, knowing that if Nick or Fin told on her, Underhill would have her undergo the orientation again, if only to emphasize securing perimeters and other tedious nothings. Her feet move without her permission. She could barely recognize her room. 

But the papers strewn and crumpled about, she knew logically that they were her drawings. Pieces of herself that she let out on any medium she could find. The mattress was all but flaky soot but the bedposts still resemble a bed. And underneath her nightstand, pinned down by a fallen drawer, her eye caught on a piece of paper. It was her sketchbook, or what was left of it.

Crouching gingerly, she extracts the fragile piece of her past and finds it miraculously intact, or the likes. She flicks through it and for some reason she fixates on a breadstick.

Completely insignificant compared to the fantasy characters and landscapes she designed for Simon’s book a lifetime ago. But her fingers trace it’s outline, almost reverently. The charcoal she must’ve used, not even smudging and it looks so detailed. Her eyes glaze over and she thinks back to that time she must’ve drawn it. In a cafe, or was it a bar, with Simon. When was that? There’s this tingling feeling sitting heavy on her stomach. 

She looks down and she’s holding a breadstick. The paper is clear. 

Her body freezes and she has half a mind to think that she’s being punked. But she unfreezes and inspects the stale pastry. Definitely real, and not drawn in charcoal. 

In her brain, there is a track of  _ ‘oh shit, oh shit’ _ on repeat, but on the outside she power walks outside and tries not to look like someone lit her pants on fire. 

Lily, who should win the ‘Most Friendly’ award of the day, did not respect her emotional introspection and snapped at her to get the damned box already. 

“Sheesh, could’ve just said you had somewhere to be, if you need to hurry that bad.”  _ Oops, I said that out loud.  _

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were at least aware that some of us have responsibilities.  _ Fledgelings _ to take care of.” She spat pointedly, Clary didn’t see the pointed look Nick sent her, that universal look of ‘ _ shut up’.  _

She was just about to turn around, her nervous energy perking up at the chance of a cat fight but—

“Hey, there's a floorboard creaking here?” Nate said hurriedly, sounding like he was in the master bedroom.  _ Mom’s room. _

“Duh, there was a fire? Wood is going to creak,” Maia replied, in the same flat stare that the vampires were sporting. But she was already running to him, this feeling just  _ possessing _ her and she knows, she knows it in her heart it’s there. 

She was dropping to her knees before Nate could point to it, there’s that feeling again, on the tip of her tongue, right outside her mind’s eye’s reach. 

God bless long fingernails, even if it did hurt like a bitch, but she pried off the loose board, but before she could stick her hand in and grope with abandon, Nick beat her to it. 

Hand effectively slapped away, she sat back on her haunches and looked in anticipation at Nick’s face. Surprise flooded his face for half a second then he’s leaning back again, a small wooden box in his hands.  _ His father’s box.  _

She takes it from him and he lets her, probably seeing the tears pooling in her eyes. Years of wondering about what had her mother in tears, what mementos his father had left behind, and all she had to do was open it. 

Her feelings of guilt and intrusion vanish, when all she sees are boots. Baby boots. 

Everyone huddled around her before she even opened it, and the looks of confusion were identical to them all. 

She dove back down into the box. Maybe there was a false bottom, a string she needed to pull, something hidden, maybe there was  _ something _ . But she turned and prodded, shook it and hit it, before Nate laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, shaking his head at her. But she couldn’t look at him, not any of them. Because she has  _ nothing _ and she just wasted their time, and proved Alec right, and—

And that paint looked familiar. 

Everyone was already moving away from her by then, Nick being the voice of reason saying they should have a final look through and secure the place. Lily and her friend muttering about a waste of time, and Maia nodding along to Nate saying it was still a milestone. Her mind had flushed them all out then, chasing that little detail, that same spec of gold paint that her mother rarely used. But she  _ did  _ use it, and Clary’s seen it. And for some freaking reason, that was important. 

_ That has to be it. _

When she ran and gripped Maia’s hand, asking for her phone, she must’ve looked like a rabid woman out of her mind, since Maia confusedly handed it to her. She zoomed to the hallway farthest from everyone and dialed.

“Luke! Dot’s cards, Dot’d cards, I need to know if you have them!” 

* * *

Alec was sure that he was an absolute ass in his past life. 

He was sure that he had to have been such a dick to someone, for them to have cursed him. They cursed him to live in interesting times. And if  _ this  _ wasn’t what constituted interesting times, he didn’t know what did. 

Admittedly,  _ interesting _ is not what he would call the events that lead him to his current position. 

_ Interesting _ is not what you would use to describe a very gay Nephilim, that’s not really all Nephilim, being offered up for marriage, in the middle of what was now being dubbed the Dark Wars. 

He had a million other things to do, missions to overlook, projects that needed directing, stacks of Clave paperwork, and political relations that he should be working on right now. But all of those were on the back burners of his mind. And really, he’s surprised there’s still space for them. 

_ I could start a rumor that I’m a single dad now. I could use Izzy and Jace as props. That should scare them, and technically would make me  _ not _ a bachelor anymore. Though, maybe that’d scare off Magnus, too? Wait, no. Why am I even including him in this. It’s just a silly crush. But he is such an amazing leader. He’s way more experienced at this than I am. Oh, he’d look stunning by my side, running the—nope. Yeah, maybe I could just fake my death now. Hawaii sounds nice. Hm.  _

“Why are you thinking so hard?” 

Jace’s chubby face was inches away from his own, he couldn’t resist booping his cute nose, and him scrunching his face in annoyance was enough to lift his moods. Letting out a chuckle, he sat up from the bed. And no, he had not been staring at the ceiling since ten in the morning, hiding from the bustle of New York Institute. He was also, most certainly, not clutching his phone and thinking of what to reply to Magnus, Tal, and the Downworld Cabinet messages. 

What would he even say to Magnus?  _ Yes, thank you for telling me you enjoyed our time together and would like to get to know you even more. No, I really like you too but I can’t, because, you see, I’m getting married to a stranger and there’s also the fact that I am hiding a few couple secrets, too. But, yes I will meet you some time for drinks because I can’t ever say no to you.  _

He should probably respond to the Cabinet messages since those were the only ones that had some hope to it. The mission was a success and he could feel the curious tension hovering over his Institute. He’s standing on rocky foundations and his shaking and stomping has his Shadowhunters feeling all sorts of weird. He only hopes that his little campaign goes something like the way it did in Buenos Aires. There was resistance, yes, ignorant Nephilim clinging to their normalcy and to the deep seated hate that generations have cultivated. But it eased its way through, and though the factions there might not be riding off to the sunset together, they are somehow all on the same side. 

He thinks back to Nick and Fin’s pleased smiles as they went back, reporting no trouble and that everyone actually did what they were there for. It was only the night before that Alec had led his own operation with other factions and his Shadowhunter’s hope was high. The picture of their leader with the pack Alpha, newly minted Coven Leader, and a Seelie knight was fresh on their minds, they knew it could be done. But their worries showed with the relief they exuded when reporting to him. His heart warmed as well, at the memory of both Maia and Lily nodding goodbye to him around the table that they were debriefing at. He didn’t miss the pointed looks Lily sent him, then Clary, and the flash of pain, bordering on sympathy, that he felt on the air around her. It was a reminder. And a confirmation that she went along to his request that he be the one to tell it. It was his responsibility after all. 

Somehow, even the room that Alec assigned to Clary all those days ago had not been able to contain the torrent that was Clary’s emotion. Many hours after consoling her in the confined space, as he was thumping his head on the cool wood of the hallway, he could still feel her pain and remorse, so heavy too with a rage that burned like he imagined her hair would sometimes. He was drenched in her signature of anguish and he was brewing in it. Her words seem to have latched onto his brain as well. 

_ “No, no, no you… you’re lying, no,” her hand was on her gaping mouth, eyes too easily filling to the brim. She took a shuddering breath as she leaped to him, clutching his shirt. “Alec, please, this can’t be happening! You said—” _

_ “I know, Raziel, I know what I said and I’m sorry,” he gathered her in a hug and he didn’t pay attention to the guilt that scorched him. She sobbed and sobbed til anger had her pounding her fists on his chest. She was trying to get away, but he knew it’d only get worse if he let her go. He held on and she started screaming.  _

_ “If Jace and izzy were here,” a wet gasp, “if they were, they were here, they’d be on my side. You hate me! And they’d, they’d be on my side and Simon would be okay! He could—I wouldn’t have had to,” and more sobbing and clutching onto him.  _

_ Hours of unintelligible regrets and blames went by and when he felt her drooping more than she already was, he laid her down and told her to sleep.  _

_ “But Luke, I have to get …”  _

_ “Shh, don’t worry about it,” and just like that she was out. “I’ve got you.”  _

His brain had the gall to muse whether Luke or Magnus or Raphael or heck, even the Seelie Queen, ever felt as much of an impostor as he did then. 

His doubt must’ve shown through his voice that night, or morning he couldn’t remember, when he called Luke about the cards Clary was talking about wildly before 

“ _ We did everything we could, Alec. You’re a good kid and I know you’ll feel this. But Simon’s okay and Clary will be, too.” _

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just asked again if he needed backup, that he wouldn’t mind sending a few of his people over, since the wolf was already dealing with his dead boss and investigations. Luke declined again and he has yet to hear from him again. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what Magnus would say to him then, if he was the one to hear the doubt in his voice. His voice would be smooth and genuine, reassuring him in a way that he didn’t dare think about. Maybe if he replied to his messages now he’d notice something with him too, even without a phone call. There was so much weighing down on Alec that it probably would be so obvious and telling. Especially to Magnus, he had this unnerving habit of seeing Alec so clearly. 

Though he does suppose he isn’t much better, since he has hardly bonded and spent time with the man to notice any habits, but here he was. Drawing conclusions, and being sure of them, even with just a few meetings, a coffee-date-not-date, and almost constant messaging—which was supposed to be about his siblings and their re-aging process but had since strayed to other topics.

Jace’s face remain unchanged and cute beside him, how much of his inner turmoil 

_ “Is Alec in love?”  _ He turned sharply to Izzy who had just abandoned her drawing and was staring at him with the most serious look he had ever seen on a five year old. 

_ “Wha—excuse me? Why are you even asking that, princess?” _

“ _ Well, the girls in my class used to say you have a crush when you had that look in your face,” _ Jace adds helpfully, egging on Izzy, who was now settling down beside him. 

They were closing in on him and it was like they haven’t been de-aged at all. This was their same routine when they wanted an answer that they expected Alec wouldn’t want to give. He’d still give it, if it weren’t too confidential of course, and they’d go their merry way thinking they knew most, if not everything, going on in Alec’s life. 

As smart and intuitive as they are, Alec was careful.

His love life, on the other hand, was not something he used to be so careful about since it used to be non-existent. That  _ may _ not be the case now. So they might be onto something for the first time here. 

_ “I am  _ not  _ in love, can we please drop this now?”  _ Unfortunately for him, they did not. 

His hands were hiding his face so he did not get to see the conniving look Izzy and Jace shared over him, he did however hear the high pitched squealing, one not so different to one that adult Izzy would have let out in the same situation. 

“ _ Who is it, big brother? You have to introduce us!” _ She was shaking him now, as if that would somehow make the answers topple out of him. 

When he hummed out a negative sounding hum, it only made them shake him even harder. 

“ _ Is it a girlfriend?”  _ Jace asked, to which he gave his most offended scoff at. 

“ _ A wife?” _

“ _ Gods, no, Izzy.”  _

_ “A boyfriend?”  _

_ “You know what,”  _ he bursts out, standing abruptly from the bed and away from the two hounds on either side of him, “ _ Let’s go get a snack, we like snacks, don’t we?”  _

But it was a grave mistake, for the moment that he had turned his back on them and had held onto the hope of distracting them,  _ they  _ had held onto his phone. Which was still unlocked. Showing the message of one very sparkly warlock. Who was asking him out. 

The phone was clutched between them, Jace being the more nefarious of them and actually reading it, relying his ill-gotten information to Izzy in whispers. 

All that time he was already muttering a chorus of ‘no’s, inching slowly towards them. But these two were worse than a corned animal, they were  _ mischievous  _ cornered animals. And when they noticed him getting closer, their younger bodies must still have the memories of their older selves since they moved without second guessing one another. Already understanding that Jace would press the call button, passing it to Izzy in a split second, as he dove for Alec’s legs and she ran as far as she could. 

“Jace, no! Mhmp—”,he had been toppled over but he still screamed in vain, “Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, you come back here this instant!” 

* * *

There was a mound of blankets in the Dumort’s new furnished room that had Raphael questioning all his major life decisions. 

“Simon, you can’t hide there forever. 

_ Dios me ayude desde adolescentes dramáticos. _ ” ( _ God help me from dramatic teenagers.) _

There was a muffled reply under the heaps of soft fabric that his vampire hearing could barely make out as a limp ‘I heard that’.

He was sitting at the edge of the bed, giving the newly turned enough space but still staying near him. He knew firsthand how long a person’s mind took to adjust—to trusting that though he can hear heartbeats, he would hear none from his own chest. And that those people like him were the same. That they had to stick together. 

It’s been hours, first of Raphael giving him the space to process this on his own, but he came in before he could convince himself of the wrong things and run with it. The first few weeks would be crucial. The next hours had been spent answering all the questions he could think of. 

And boy, could Simon think. 

He ran his mouth as fast as his brain went, and when mundane-him couldn’t probably keep up with it, vampire-him easily could. It took him forty five minutes to notice he was speaking under a thousand words per minute. It confused his brain, too. 

But Raphael sat there, patiently, letting him stand on his metaphoric feet, taking it to the pace he wanted and guiding him when he asked for it.

That was until he decided he would reside the rest of his eternity under the soft duvets Magnus had magicked up for him. 

Raphael could feel the vibrations in the bed, could hear the frankly useless and laboured breaths, could see how tightly he curled into himself. He pulled the covers as roughly as he needed. 

“Hiding won’t fix anything. Calm down and this will go easier, come on,  _ conejito.”  _ He said it in what he would imagine to be his empathetic voice, the one that shows that he  _ does _ care. He’s been told that he was cold, once or twice before. 

The swing of Simon’s body as he rose was harsh and angry. He was breathing heavily and Raphael resisted the urge to tell him he didn’t need to do that. 

“Easier?! How can any of this  _ be  _ easy? Or-or even close to it?! Huh? I freaking died! And I came back like this! Perfect. I, I’m perfect.” 

His voice died out, like all the fight in him was ripped out, and he slumped on the bed again. Close to Raphael, who didn’t flinch or react from his little outburst. Raphael imagined he would feel the heat of anger rolling out of him, had they been humans. He stopped breathing. His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times and his eyes were squeezed shut. 

“I don’t need my glasses. My skin looks like it’s been photoshopped. I have toned muscles, when they used to be just  _ muscles _ and—And ever part of me looks like a doll, you know, one of those dolls that’s never been out of the box. Looks perfect and everything, but it’s just. It’s just hollow. 

I found a razor in the bathroom, with a working mirror in it, you have to explain  _ that  _ to me by the way, and I uh, I cut a little on my finger and it was even perfect on the inside, too. Just pink flesh. Just perfect pink flesh.

See, if I thought I still had a soul, I would’ve thought you guys put my soul in a wax figure of my old body. But even that’s not true. So how … how can being in  _ this _ be easy?”

He turned his head to Raphael and maybe if he had a heart, it would’ve ached for the little boy in front of him. But his brain was present enough to remind him of himself back then, also just a boy, gripping at anything that provided a semblance of comfort. 

There was nothing he could say that would make him feel better, so he just hooked an arm on his shoulder, his elbow hopefully an assuring weight on the other’s back. 

“The mirrors nowadays aren’t lined in silver.” 

Simon turned to him, perpetually glassy eyes blinking in confusion. “Uh, what?” 

“That’s why it works for us. And why Hollywood got the idea in the first place.” 

It managed to get a surprised chuckled out of him, so maybe he did know what to say after all. Though it did come out more of a humorous exhale and not much more. 

They both jostle at the intruding buzz of the phone on the nightstand. Without having to look, they both know it’s Clary Fairchild again.  __

He could practically see the guilt pooling in Simon’s eyes so he intervened before he did something stupid, like answering the phone. “Don’t,” the look he got was sheepish, caught in the thought of it look, “You did the right thing.  _ You’re _ the one that got turned, and if she’s not done throwing her fit about not being informed, then she can stay brooding in that church of theirs.” 

Simon was worrying his lips, seeing the reason behind them but also still conditioned to always deflect to that girl’s side. 

“Yeah, she probably is just venting about how terrible Alec is,” he said with a grimace, meant to be a smile, but still a grimace. 

He had to admit the Shadowhunter was not the worst he had encountered, and Magnus seemed to not be hostile with him, friendly even, but he also looked like he could handle a prissy baby Shadowhunter till he could guide his fledgeling to some stability. 

Which he should get back to now. 

“But there  _ is _ a phone call you could make. Or I could do it, if you prefer.” He waited for a reaction, maybe another outburst, or panic, but all he got was a resigned and shaky sigh. He knew firsthand how hard it was going to be, how hard it still is even for him. Simon was just unfortunate enough, or fortunate maybe, to still have a family left. One he had to call now and take care of. 

Raphael made sure to delete all other messages and missed calls before handing Simon the phone, squeezing his shoulder as he scrounged up the courage to hit call. 

“You know,” Simon started, dropping the phone still clutched in his hand on top of the covers on his lap, “this, uh, this would be way harder, I imagine, if you weren’t here. So thanks. I don’t think I’ve said it yet.” 

He looked down embarrassed, so he didn’t see the way that Raphael froze up, seized with guilt and anguish. He willed his throat to work, to let out his voice but no. His hand dropped from Simon’s shoulders. He couldn’t. 

“Raph? What is it? Hey—” 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m, I should be asking for your forgiveness. I brought you here and …” 

“Yeah, you did. And you’re helping me here?,” confusion marred his face and he was looking at Raphael like he didn’t cause his death. Like he was some good samaritan who happened upon him. And he didn’t deserve it. 

In a small voice he thought he had gotten rid of centuries ago, he clarified. “I got you killed, Simon. I should’ve—”

“No.”

Simon’s fingers were cold and glossy when they gripped his forearms. He was right, they did look perfect, enhanced. 

“Camille killed me. Not you. Alright? I’m not sure about a lotta things right now, but I’m sure about that.”  _ Huh, so he can sound brave.  _

* * *

_ Octopus artery, check. Obsidian dust, check. Peeled sea cat gallbladders fermented in gin, ugh, check. Androsphinx skins, check. Hot pep— _

“Magnus, hi!” 

_ Hot damn.  _

_ Alright, Bane, reboot and function, quickly. _

“Darling, you look ravishing. That jacket on you, mhm,” he let his eyes rake that slim fitted jacket over that delicious v-neck. How effortlessly scrumptious. Magnus’ eyes snapped back to Alexander’s face when he saw him touch the back of his neck and hide his blush. 

It was all too terribly sweet. Magnus should buy Isabelle a new wardrobe for this. 

“Uh, I- I hope you really weren’t busy when they called? I tried to um, stop them but—”

“But you were bested by your toddlerized siblings before you could?” He couldn’t help but tease if it got him that delightful blush every time. But he didn’t want to torment him too much. “No, dear, as I said on the phone, it was perfectly fine. I wouldn’t say I’m free if I weren’t. 

And it  _ is _ proving to be such a wonderful thing to happen today, don’t you think?”  _ Did you want to see me as much as I did? _

“Y-yeah, I-it’s great to see you. And you, you look,” a wave to his hair had Magnus preening. “Oh you like it? I got bored, wanted to try a bit of gold.”

“It looks amazing on you.” The heavy genuineness that he often said things with had him blinking a few times,  _ you are off your game today, keep it together. You get compliments all the time.  _

“Shouldn’t we go in, darling?” 

As much as he loved the outdoors and spending time being flustered with Alexander, they do have some things to accomplish before they can enjoy each other’s company. 

In their line of work and in these times, idle talk isn’t much of an option. You can’t ask about how things are going without touching on the subject of his kind being hunted down, or Alexander being busy trying to catch a madman. Even asking about the weather would lead to heavier topics and not ones they could discuss out in the open, even when inside the institute, and on the way to his office. 

Even if he so desperately wanted to ask him how things were going. It hasn’t been two days since he saw that look on the younger man’s face. It wasn’t one he liked to see on him and even worse, it was a look that hinted on something more going on inside his head. Or his heart. 

Magnus tries to convince himself that he wants to address it so much because he’s seen the same look in the mirror, but he can’t quite do so.

He was thinking so loudly he didn’t notice they were taking a different route, and that this wasn’t the wing of the head’s office at all. He wagered this was the living quarters but before he could ask, Alexander was swinging open an old wooden door. 

It was his room. 

“And people say  _ I’m _ the bold one,” he snided with a perfect brow arched, lingering on the entrance. He was inside but not quite. 

The spluttering and stuttering mess that was the Shadowhunter’s reply was worth his confusion but when he looked around he concluded the answer himself. It was less of a room and more a living space. There was a whole side for an office or library, another with a coffee table and comfortable looking chairs and a couple of doors he suspected to be a closet and a bathroom. 

So this was his private dwellings. Makes sense. He might’ve figured that out, but Alexander didn’t have to know that and the bed  _ is  _ right there. He looked at his flushed face and wiggled his brows. 

But the other man’s attention was not on him, well not all on him, since he was minding Magnus though he was looking around, peeking behind the couches, under his table and in the bathroom. 

“Ah, have you misplaced the children, Alexander?”

“I did  _ not _ misplace them, they’re just, uh, not here. They were here when I went out!” 

“Evidently they are no longer here, so let’s go find them.” He moved to go out again but Alexander was just standing there running his hand through his face. 

There was this tired weight on his shoulders and Magnus longed to ease them off him. Such a young and beautiful soul, already worked down by the brashness of being a Shadowhunter. One with a heart to do the right thing. 

“Come on, hey, we’ll get you some rest after I’ve done my diagnostics on them, alright?” He tried to be reassuring and genuine, he had a feeling that it would be what he needed. Somehow it was, since the resigned look on his face lessened and he gave Magnus a small smile that had Magnus’ insides tingling. His magic must be acting up again. 

In the end, it was in the kitchen that the two miscreants were hiding at. 

And they were in trouble with a very hot looking, but angry, big brother. Magnus figures it is not the time to tell him he sort of agreed with their reason. 

“You can’t just run off because I ‘have a guest’ that is not— _ tum ratione accepta non nosti!”  _ (That is not an acceptable reason and both of you know it)

He was really getting into it, changing back and forth from English to Latin. Because of course, Maryse would have her children learn a dead language before anything else. He wonders if Alexander could speak French, he’s always found that language highly amorous. Coupled with that voice, well no one can blame his mind for wandering. 

“—Magnus? Hey?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m back, what were you saying?”

His mind back onto PG-13 thoughts, he explained to all of them what he would be doing. 

“This is just to see how your bodies are in relation to time. It’s much more complicated than that but I won’t drone on time fabric theorems and bore you all. All you need to do is drink them, I’ve made them vanilla flavor don’t worry, and I shall see the results in half an hour.” 

Once Alexander was done translating, and reassuring Jace in another language that the boy figured Magnus didn’t speak, he handed them the little vials of glittery purple liquid. They were both entranced by the looks of it and they easily drank it. Which is favorable since the vanilla could only hide so much of the … unpleasantness. 

He stifled his laugh at their cutely scrunched up faces, gagging at what he assumes must be the atrocious taste. Alexander didn’t try to hide his cackling. 

Still, he was a magnificent older brother so he got them milk to rinse down the taste. After he had asked Magnus if it wouldn’t mess with his potion. Three times. 

And the day had appeared to be ‘Izzy’s good plans’ day because she proceeded to demand they eat cookies. Probably inspired by the milk. Though not only eat them, but  _ make _ them as well. 

“ _ Isabelle, no. I told you. I’ll just get someone to buy a box outside later, okay?” _ He said placatingly, letting her down as gently as he could. But she was not having it. She stomped and she pouted, she pleaded and she cried. 

Jace’s idea was what ceased her crying.  _ “Well can’t we just make it, your boy friend can just magic out what we need, right?”  _ he said, with a swoosh of his hand that was meant to represent Magnus’ spell casting. It was adorable. And true. But then, Alec wasn’t having it. Morals and such.

“ _ Jace,”  _ he chided, “ _ we do not get to make some people do things for us just because they can do it, understood?” _

And while Magnus was extremely flattered to be defended and for someone to have his best interests at mind, and he did not condone throwing tantrums to get what you want, he did want to spend time with Alec. 

He wanted to give him reprieve from whatever responsibilities were chaining him down, hunching his strong shoulders like that. It didn’t help that he also felt a certain sense of peace, whenever he was with the Shadowhunter. 

And well, baking, much like potion making, relaxed him like nothing did. He wondered briefly why he dropped that hobby of his. Perhaps it was something about a certain ex commenting on his waistline, he couldn’t remember. 

“I really don’t mind, you know,” he said with what he hopes is finality, since Alexander had rebutted him twice now even as he said it was alright. He magicked up all the ingredients he needed and over his shoulder he heard Alec mutter about telling his kitchen team to get eggs ‘because what place has no goddamn eggs’. 

It was easy to fall into this domestic bubble with the little Lightwood lot. Easy to feel laid back beside Alexander, even as they were both trying to have some flour remain inside the bowl. Jace was whisking with twenty years of trauma-induced rage, and Izzy was finding creative ways to shovel pure sugar into her mouth. 

And okay, it was a tiny bit different to how his usual potion making relaxation routine would go, but he found that it worked all the same. 

When it was time to cut and design the cookies, he maneuvered Alexander to the preheating oven and took a moment to assess him. He was so lost in his quiet beauty, how much he resembled the white marble angels that he saw being made in Italy all those centuries ago, that Alec was the one to speak first. 

“I know what you’re doing, Magnus,” he said softly, “and I’m grateful for it.” As he began to shake his head, going to tell him that it was nothing, he continued. “I mean it. You didn’t have to, but you did, and thank you for that.”

He made the perfect impression of a fish then, opening and then closing his mouth. At a loss for words at the seer gratitude that was in his gentle voice. Maybe it’s been too long since he heard those words that sincerely. It fits that he’d hear it from Alexander. 

“Well, you’re welcome. And I mean it, too. Anytime you get that feeling in your chest that gave you that look in your eyes again, ring me up. I promise I wouldn’t mind. I’ll never mind time spent with you, dear.” 

That blush he was always aiming for hadn’t even fully formed before he was being called by Underhill. 

“Oh, um, sorry to interrupt, boss, but we have a line from Idris? It’s urgent.”

The weight came clambering back upon his shoulders faster than Magnus’ would’ve liked but he seemed to be just rolling with the punches, so Magnus did, too.

“Go, I should be performing the diagnostics on them anyways. Or do you prefer I do them when you get back?” 

“No, that’s fine. I won’t be long, I hope. Just update me on the results, yeah?” 

And he was out the door, taking that tingling feeling at the edge of Magnus’ magic with him. 

_ “So, what do you say to a magic show, my little squirrels?” _

Isabelle audibly gasped, either at recognition that he speaks her language, or at the mention of magic. Jace too looked skeptical, but that might’ve been at the thought that he could understand him relying his fears to Alec earlier. It seems his vulnerability was hard earned. Even as a child. 

After he explained the process to them again, much like how he did that first night they were de-aged, he called up his gentlest magic and pushed it through them. 

If anything was wrong or amiss, he’d get a distinct ping from the potion he gave them earlier. But truthfully, with the state they were in, there were a lot of wrong things. It was what took the potion some time to make. Aside from the situations that had called his attention. 

He focused on the sense of his magic and chased the paths the potion took. He could feel nothing that he hadn’t expected to be there, but he did see some of their cores being stretched to an extend that he needs to ponder on if it was worrying enough to warrant a deadline. 

But there was something. 

There;s this fleeting traces of magic that he can’t quite latch onto. It wasn’t Seelie magic, or time magic, though he would have mistaken it for the former if he was a younger warlock. It wasn’t their inherent angelic magic, but it was close to it. A sensation at the back of his mind was nagging at him, pushing the feel of recognition forward but it couldn’t. 

Alec came back, slumped lower than he was this morning, a firm frown set on his face. So of course, Magnus made it his mission to get rid of it. 

As he was retailing his findings and the good news that it meant, that feeling was all but forgotten. 

He wouldn’t have paid it any heed had he remembered it as they were eating the fresh cookies. It was the most peace Magnus had felt in a long time. 

* * *

When he walked Magnus to the door, he was worlds better from his state a few hours back. And he had this amazing man to thank for that. He couldn’t help but appreciate the way that Magnus smiled at him, this easy and free tip of his mouth. The lines around his eyes were testaments to the joys in his life, and the lines on his forehead are to the sadness in it. But even through all of that, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He smiled with so much kindness, Alec’s heart was brimming from it. He couldn’t imagine how people could miss it. But so many did. 

He was just about to turn to the hallway leading out the door but it burst open, and Valentine walked through. 

But it wasn’t really him, though before he could ponder that, he was already pulling Magnus behind him and releasing an arrow. Easy as breathing.

He could feel Magnus’ magic pulsing, getting stronger by the minute, but he shook his head and put out his hand. Her glamour was strong, but it only muffled his vision. 

The arm that caught his arrow rippled and gave way to a more feminine body. One with a pin on her jacket. 

Clave. 

“That reaction time was abysmal. Except for you.

I’m Lydia Branwell. Envoy from the Clave.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i emerge from my cave bearing gifts. 
> 
> So hi, I'm sorry I took while hehe, working two jobs and school is probably not the best idea, or time, to be writing a passion project like this. Especially with my snail-pace writing. But on the good side, the plot is ... somewhat there. I've got them plans and ... it might take more time but, this is my baby and ya know i just. ~emotions. But yeah, this is from the beginning a self-indulgent thing that I wanted to read so badly I wrote it. And some of you seem to enjoy it so I am so so so glad for that. You're kudos and comments are SO appreciated. When I say it keeps me going, man, I mean it *keeps* me *going*, ya know?
> 
> Anyways, this was a long one to make up for the time, please bear with me as I hobble this out and, scream at me. If it made you feel anything or think anything, I wanna hear from y'all. I may cry, but I do take constructive criticism. Lord knows I need it.
> 
> (also if there is any mistake in the translations, please blame google, i only know how to count in Spanish and I can only exorcise demons in Latin. any mistakes on the timeline ... uh ... well,, i hate to break it to ya, but timelines are not a thing i acknowledge. lemme perceive it when its timeline visibility day, okay? thanks)
> 
> WELL that was long. I love yall, keep safe, vote wisely and buhbye!


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